The Philosophy of Emotions
by FanFreak2002
Summary: Miriam Bryant has worked for the DPD for a few years, one night aiding in a case she crosses paths with an android that is an exact replica of her deceased husband. Battling the past, she begins to have hope that there is more inside the RK800 than mere programming. But becoming closer to the android has her choosing to fight for what she believes in or to save the one she loved.
1. Cloud Atlas

**The Philosophy of Emotions – Chapter One**

∙Han (Korean) the combination of hope and despair at the same time; the collective acceptance of suffering combined with the quiet yearning for things to be different.

Picket lines and picket signs  
Don't punish me with brutality  
Talk to me, so you can see  
Oh, what's going on?

What's Going On, Marvin Gaye 1971

"All right you little monsters, time to get in your crates. Your Uncle Jeremy will be here to let you out for lunch."

Miriam ushered the puppies into their pens, giving them their blankets and a few toys. She had been fostering animals for several years, but she still hated this part. The new animals either traumatized or just unused to being confined would start crying to be let out. Caving, she dispensed a few treats to them all before hurrying to gather her coat and bag then dodging out the door. With work coming in slow, she wouldn't need to clock in until late afternoon.

She was glad the sun was out; it had been raining too much, the nip of November already starting to turn the water to slush. Walking a few blocks she came up to the taxi docks, punching in her account number to have the car buzz to life, the automated voice greeting her when she stepped inside.

"Welcome, Ms. Bryant, please select your destination."

The front window turned into a map of the city, using her fingers she enlarged it and chose the Greek district.

"Please fasten your safety belt so we can depart."

She watched out the window, the trees full of colors others bare and ready for winter. It was one of the advantages of living further from the main part of the city. It was just as crowded, but felt less rushed. It didn't have stores piled up. The city had yet to take the remaining foliage in the area to make room for progress. Parking in front of the square, she clicked out of the belt to be ready to exit.

"Thank you for using your local Detroit Taxi service. Have a nice day."

She picked up the addictive scent of hotdogs in the air, and knew she would have a good day. Making a note in her mind to get something for lunch before she left. Keeping her head down she listened to the music playing in the center, hearing various conversations float all around while she made her way to the other side. She could hear the chanting and she nearly rolled her eyes.

Doing her best to get around the group she felt herself being pushed from behind. Glancing around, she saw a man with a tall frame and girth sneering at her.

"You're part of the problem, you know that?"

Her nose crinkled in distaste right back at him. "Oh yeah, and how's that exactly?"

He nodded towards the Cyberlife store that she had been heading to. "Keeping them in business cause you can't do a damn thing on your own. Just handing over all your money so they can keep popping out more, you have any clue how many lives you're ruining? Do you even care?"

She huffed. "Don't act like you know me or my reasons for going in there. You can't blame them for losing your jobs. Did it ever cross your mind that it's your fault? Who did you vote for? Warren? She's the one that okayed the mass production across America. Have you written our senators or congress? Because they're the ones getting lobbied in exchange for free labor. How about you quit berating random people on the street and actually do something constr –"

She had known better, people didn't like her rants and now she was hefted up off the ground by the scruff of her collar.

"You hear this little bitch? It's our faults these plastic fucks have taken over."

She felt something splat the side of her face, realizing with a groan of her stomach that someone just hocked a loogie on her.

"Teach her some manners, Mikey!"

"That's enough of that!"

She thanked God for seeing the officer come up.

He eyed her on his approach. "Bryant, what the hell? What are you doing?"

Her mouth opened for a moment, realizing she had never learned this particular officer's name. "I was just going to pick up an order and I was accosted."

"Accosted my ass!"

"I said that's enough!" The officer wiped his brow in frustration. "Bryant just go get what you're needing to and leave these people alone. They have just as much right to be here so be moving on your merry way."

She wanted to add more but thought better of it. Turning back to the store she tried her best to get the majority of the spittle off her temple. It was always uncomfortable in here, all the androids watching yet remaining on their display. Not moving or talking, but she wondered if they absorbed anything as people came and went. Heading to the counter she smiled at the VB800. The majority of people assumed the same model of android were identical to each other, when in fact there was always one "flaw" put there to make them distinguishable without needing their serial number. And she knew from the small mole on the underside of his jaw that this particular one would help her without raising questions.

"Hello, and welcome to CyberLife store #3, how may I help you today?"

"Yes, I'm here to pick up an order."

She placed her hand on the scanner before prompted, the ding signaling her purchase.

"Payment has been verified."

She felt her phone vibrate from her coat, her receipt sent through.

"Order complete. Would you like some assistance to your vehicle?"

She nodded, knowing she would never be able to carry all of it. "Yes, please."

"Of course, thank you for visiting CyberLife Store #3 where our mission is to make your life more convenient."

Thanking him, she began pointing the carriers to one of the taxis when another commotion from the protestors caught her attention.

"Grab him! Get him down! Get that bum!"

"Let's tie his ass up and send him out of here!"

Their focus was inward now, and she had a bad feeling about what she already knew their frustrations were out on. Trying to get a better view she pried her way in to peer into the center of them. She had figured they had grabbed an android, but watching him get up she caught a glimpse of his face.

"Markus!"

She made her way past before she nearly fell on top of him.

"It's that same bitch from before!"

"She's defending the tin can?"

"Fuck her up, there ain't any cops around this time!"

Reaching into her bag she pulled out her name badge. "If you didn't notice before the officer knew me, he may not like me, but he knows me. I work for DPD and if you assault me it will equate to almost the same amount of time in prison as it would a cop. It may play in your best interests if you leave me and my friend alone."

It felt like there was a lapse in time, the protestors turning to one another to weigh the pros and cons before finally making a gap for the two of them to leave.

"You just wait, they'll be taking your job soon enough and you'll be out here with the rest of us."

"See how you like it then android fucker."

Picking up the discarded box, she led the android away. "Come on, Markus let's get away from here."

She felt their glowers and death stares until they had enough space between them. Sitting down on a bench, she ushered Markus to join her so she could look him over.

She messed with the rip of his uniform. "Did they only get your shirt?"

He nodded. "Yes, it's no big deal. You shouldn't have gotten into the middle of that. They could've hurt you, Miriam."

She looked up into those green eyes and almost wept. She had known Markus for so long, pretty much since his creation. Knowing Mr. Manfred beforehand she had come across the android in her teens. Her peers may have called it sad, but it was easy to say Markus had been her first real friend. His design could have him crush those people, but Markus' soul was gentle. He didn't like violence, wanting to keep the peace more than anything. He wasn't meant to be a fighter, which was probably why he stayed on the ground.

"Didn't you hear me? You're my friend. I wasn't going to let them hurt you because they have some vendetta."

He smiled. "Well, I suppose there is a plus that I got to run into you. I haven't seen you in 52 days. I've missed you and your company."

She patted his hand. "I've missed you too. I'll have to try and call to see when I can come over."

"You can drop by whenever you like, except tonight. There's an art exhibition featuring some of Carl's works."

"That sounds nice."

"I'm sure the gallery would let you attend if you wanted."

She laughed, hearing the prodding in his words. "As much as I would like to have my ear chewed off, I'm afraid I'll have to work. Plus, I have four pups at home that will be very lonely by that time."

Miriam could see the disappointment crossing his features, and though she didn't want to hurt him it always filled her with something giddy when seeing him or any other android being so blatant in an emotion outside their programming. Placing her thumb between his eyebrows she rubbed out the crease his frown made there.

"I promise to come see you soon. If Carl will let you maybe we can find an adventure to get caught in."

Markus smiled then. "If you put it that way to him he'll probably throw me out to go with you."

She laughed at that, her hand cupping his cheek, his own by reflex covering hers. "I'm glad he's so good to you. He thinks of you as one of his children, you know."

"I like to think so…but I know that's not right to do."

"If you're not hurting anyone then it's not wrong, now come on, would you like to take a taxi with me?"

"I was going to ride the bus home."

Pursing her lips, she patted his knee before standing up. "You know I hate those compartments you have to stand in. Come on it's along my way to work."

He tilted his head in interest. "Why were you here if you needed to go to work?"

She pointed behind her at the CyberLife store. "I came to pick up my – oh, shit."

The carriers were probably gone, or the mob there had probably destroyed it seeing the logo on the side. Rushing back she saw that the poor carriers were patiently waiting by one of the taxis she had waved them at.

A wave of relief hit her. "Thank God."

"What happened?"

"Getting hassled made me forget about the stuff I bought."

She heard Markus chuckle, waiting for her to get into the vehicle first. She looked longingly at the hot dog stand yet with the protestors remaining in the way she decided she could do without her dose of fast food for today. The same greeting came from the car while she locked in the three next locations. Settling on the leather seats, she couldn't help but pry.

"Has Leo still been bugging around a lot?"

Markus shook his hand while staring out the window. "Not too much. He hasn't shown up since Carl put more money in his account."

In a way, she felt bad for Leo, just as she had with her eldest brother, Isaiah. Both of them caught up with the need to impress their fathers but never making it. But Leo took the guilt trip to another level. Always rubbing his father's lack of attention whenever he needed money, Leo didn't even care about the attention anymore, just his fix.

"I wish he would quit living the way he is."

"Me too."

There was exasperation and sadness in those words, and she couldn't imagine the way Leo wreaked havoc when he dropped in. Pulling up to the curb, she helped Markus get out.

"Thank you for the ride, and I mean it, please come by when you can."

She hugged him around his middle feeling his one free hand go around her. "I will. I need to quit letting myself get so busy and have some fun."

He smiled at her one last time before heading through the gate, seeing him safely go inside she let the taxi take her to work. She punched in her brother's number for the cab to call when it was parked. It would remain occupied until Jeremy got there to unload it. Heading past the lobby, she made a beeline for the coffee machine. If she couldn't have a hot dog she could pour some extra sugar to give her some energy.

"Bryant!"

She saw Reed making his way to her. "Hey."

He stopped a ways from her. "The fuck happened to you?"

She didn't know what he meant until he gestured at her. She hadn't paid attention when she was at the square, and Markus hadn't uttered a word about it, making her suspect it was his form of revenge for not visiting as she should have. Her coat took the brunt of it, a good layer of dust and dirt covered her front, and remembering the spit her hand jerked to feel crisp hair from where it had dried.

"One of those protest groups had to make their say so clear."

"When're you going to learn to leave them the hell alone?"

"Hey! I didn't do anything. I was trying to go into a store to get my stuff. I didn't go up to them to start anything. They're the ones that confronted me. I don't know why you always have to take their side like it's my fault."

"Well, let's think on that for a minute, shall we? Those people have no jobs and no income to support themselves or their families because a pack of wires and plastic had to take their place. And you're the one telling them that they have it backwards that the inanimate objects are the victims in this. You have any idea how fucking ridiculous that is?"

"Look, Reed, what do you want? I'm tired of arguing today."

She could tell he wanted to keep going when his lips pinched in anger. "One of the PC700's got fucked up last night. Take a look at it when you can, we're dwindling to our last five for the whole area."

"You know it wouldn't happen as often if you would give them a baton or something."

"You're crazy, we're not giving them weapons, they're job is to scan the area and report to us if they find suspicious activity not to seek out the perp."

"Yeah, and most of the time the perp will try to destroy them so it can't report here."

"I'm not the one that sets up the patrols, Bryant! You have a problem with it, go to Fowler."

Reed retreated after that. If she voiced anything Fowler would have the same attitude about it. If they could be fixed it was fine, but if not throw them in the recycle bin. It was as wasteful as it was sickening. Making a pit stop to the restroom she cleaned herself up the best she could, sighing at the reflection in the mirror she trudged her way to the lab. In her office the android had been set up in the chair for her, she was more mutilated than she thought. The side of her head looked like it had been dented with a brick, and the left leg was torn off. For some reason, that she was quick to drop, the leg bothered her more than the head. Setting her coffee down, she set out to open the android's control panel, plugging in the cord behind her neck all the android's information popped onto her computer. Luckily she was in hibernation mode, which meant her memory had a better chance of being restored.

Her office wasn't large but it was roomy enough to function, one side dedicated to any evidence that needed to be deciphered. The other made for any androids that were damaged, the department's or the ones that were arrested to be prepared or analyzed. Those were the ones coming in more often than not now, people afraid that deviancy was becoming more of an epidemic.

She put the equipment she needed together – sander to hopefully reshape the head, from the blue blood covering the body several pouches of thirium were grabbed, several different sets of wires, her laser torch and a few CPU chips in case the damage altered the original software. Turning her radio on a retro station she got to work. She enjoyed this part of her job, not necessarily having an android dismembered, but the process itself. It was quiet and took a lot of her focus to make sure she didn't do something incorrectly. Miriam had always loved anything to do with electronics, finding it easier to bond with something that couldn't talk back and judge her than with most people. Her first tablet had been treasured, and when it had went caput she had given it a funeral while burying it. Her mother had been very angry about that. She wondered at times with how far technology has advanced from the time she was a child could she truly be considered weird now or was she actually normal? The way most went on she decided it was probably the latter. The in-between songs news came on and her ears perked up.

"_With more and more incidents of deviancy among many domestic androids, several sources report that __CyberLife__ will be providing __Detroit Police__ with a prototype detective android. Although police assistant androids have existed for several years now, this would be the first case of an android being authorized to play an active role in criminal investigations. We contacted CyberLife for comment but no one was available to answer our questions."_

"Reed and Hank will be thrilled about that."

Stretching, she glanced at her watch seeing that a few hours had passed. She had done her best, the poor thing may have to wear a hat since her head couldn't be completely fixed back to its original state. But only time would tell if she would be functional again, getting the reboot ready she decided to walk around before delving into the paperwork. She went to refill her coffee when a familiar mop of hair caught her attention.

"Hank! I was just thinking of you."

He didn't look up from his terminal. "Don't be."

She laughed, taking the seat on the other side of his desk. Everyone thought he was so mean and gruff, a drunk with no feelings. But it was easy to be around him. He was her Paladin Danse, and it didn't hurt that they both knew what it was like to lose someone. She liked to think they had bonded since she had started a few years ago, though his terse attitude made it hard to tell. He tolerated her and even spent time with her outside of work so it was something. Bored that he wasn't talking she began going through his music player, having him slam his hand on it.

"Don't you have work you should be doing?"

"Not really, just paperwork on the PC700 then I'm done for the day."

Hank snorted. "Damn good thing you're on salary here."

"Agreed. Do you have any plans for after work?"

"Going to Jimmy's to watch the game."

Getting up from the chair she stretched her arms out above her head. "Ugh, why can't you choose somewhere that isn't filled with old and middle-aged men? Aren't there any other bars? Or we could get a bottle of whiskey and drink at your house."

"You keep telling me to be more sociable, Jimmy's are the only people I can tolerate."

Miriam rolled her eyes, and she could tell he had caught it feeling him frown at her. "Because no one talks to you except the bartender."

"Exactly."

"Fine, do you need Sumo fed or anything? Or do you think you'll be home before midnight?"

He gave her an incredulous look. "I didn't know you had to keep fucking tabs on me."

"I don't, I just worry."

"Well, don't."

"You're saying that a lot today. Don't. You know I'll just ignore it. I'll leave you alone since you're getting riled up. If Jeremy makes dinner tonight, I'll bring some for you tomorrow for lunch."

Hank's voice lowered. "October's over Miriam, you don't need to baby me anymore."

"As long as you eat it I don't mind."

"As long as you don't put a bunch of green shit in it I don't care."

"Deal, it's settled. So Sumo?"

"I'll feed him before I go to the bar. That make you happy?"

She smiled at the older man. "Yes, I'll see you tomorrow, Hank."

"Yeah, and be careful, Reed's been bitchin' about you annoying those damn protestors again. You're going to end up getting flogged to death if you don't stop."

"I wasn't – forget it. I won't."

"Good."

Taking care of the paperwork, and getting the android set back up in her designated slot, she went home. It was odd, of course, she did things she wouldn't boast to people about, but telling Markus how busy she was ending in her having nothing to do. Some days she felt like she was stuck in a monotonous schedule.

Wake Up

Feed Animals

Try to Eat

Play with Animals

Take Animals Outside

Shower

Go to Work

Annoy Coworkers

Go Home

Take Animals Out Again

Feed Animals

Play with Animals

Try to Eat Again

Shower Again if Needed

Watch TV Talking to Animals and/or Jeremy

Try to sleep

Repeat

If she didn't foster she'd probably lose her mind from boredom. Only Jeremy coming and going made some spontaneity for her. But most of the time her brother was busier than her. She needed to be more active, and she knew how. Unlocking the door she had a stampede of fur at her feet.

She cooed at the pups, getting on her knees to pet them. "Hello, I've missed you guys. You're one of the few that's been happy to see me today."

"You're home early."

She saw Jeremy in the kitchen doorway. People always thought they were twins – same pale skin, bright blue eyes, and dark hair. She always hated telling them that she was older.

"Yeah, there was only one that needed to be fixed today. I've had everything typed up and organized so there's no overflow of forms or emails for me. Did you get the packages?"

"Yep, did you already take them?"

"Nope. I just wanted to unwind for a while."

She moved to the couch, Jeremy following and letting his headrest on the back. "You've been doing too much. Since I'm done early I thought I'd go."

"You don't need to. I was just spacing out for a minute."

"I know, but I haven't been helping with anything recently and I feel like crap having you take all the responsibility. Plus I'm bored just doing mundane adult things."

Jeremy didn't say anything, but the stunned look said enough.

"I pay bills! I work!"

Jeremy had always been good at keeping a stoic expression but she could tell he thought she was full of it. "Sure, Miriam, are you needing me to go with you?"

"I can manage on my own just fine, have the night off and relax."

He shifted along the couch, getting comfortable on the cushions while the puppies hopped along the side trying to join him.

"I'll feed them and be on my way."

He waved her off. "It's too early, I'll feed them later."

She bent down and kissed his forehead. "Thanks, Jeremy."

He smiled at her before his attention went to the television.

It wasn't as exciting as she thought. She had fun of course, but dropping off a few boxes and saying hello to a few friends wasn't exactly the thrill she had been hoping for tonight. Maybe she could find a good movie and just blend in with her comforter for the rest of the evening. Before turning exit I-94 her phone buzzed.

She planted her the cell between her neck and shoulders. "Hello?"

Hank's voice came on the receiver. "I need you to get back down to the station we got an android that killed his owner. We suspect he's deviant and need you to get in there to see if you can find anything."

"Sure, my plans were kind of a bust tonight."

She heard Hank chuckle sarcastically. "So were mine, sweetheart. One second I'm halfway into the game and my drink, the next I have some fucker forcing me out of the bar to go to a fucking crime scene."

She grinned, terms of endearment were far and few with him, he had to be seething hard for it to slip out like that.

"I'll see you there then."

Tossing the phone into one of the seats, she reset the cab's destination, the car coming to a grinding halt before turning the other way to head to the station. This wasn't the first time she had been called in after hours, and with Jeremy staying in she didn't have to worry about anything at home. Yet she felt sort of reluctant to get there, she didn't like dealing with deviants. Miriam believed they felt regardless. But, the way deviants could plead and beg, trying to get their side across to have it fall on deaf ears hurt her greatly.

She'd never voice it aloud but with the surplus that had been coming in, the predominant conclusion she had was that many of the owners deserved it. Abusing them in ways unimaginable, methods where a human would've died early on but an android endured until it couldn't take it anymore. It was merely survival, nothing with remote intelligence wanted to die. And it amazed her that her colleagues couldn't see that.

Mentally preparing herself she made her way to her office, getting her cart of supplies in case the android was injured and the probe to check its coding. Balancing everything she wheeled down to the interrogation room, knocking on the door to make sure they wanted her in there. After the few times Reed had roughed them up they took the cue to stop before letting her come in.

"It's open!"

Damn, Hank sounded pissed. Opening the door, she got a look at the android. He was an HK400, a young African American man with blood spattered on his face and body. She could tell from across the room that it was old, the bright red gone to a dark burgundy. She then took notice of the damage to his arms, like something had tried to crush one of the pair matching the dent that was trying to repair itself on the side of his head, and then there were the very vague pockmarks that littered his body.

She aimed a smile at the android. "Hi there, my name's Miriam. If it's okay, I'd like to take a look at you to see how you're doing. Would that be okay?"

He didn't answer, eyes glued to the table. Hank snapped his fingers in his face.

"Goddamn thing hasn't said a word. I'm outta here. I'll send Miller in here so you can work on it."

She nodded setting up until the officer came in. She nodded her head in greeting to him before squatting level to the visible injuries. Tentatively touching his arm she watched for a reaction when there wasn't one she got to work fastening back the loose wires. Her fingers moved to the scars along his arm, trying to make eye contact she motioned to his face.

"You've had these for a while. Will you tell me how you got them?"

His eyes flickered to hers for a split second but quickly went back to the table. He wanted to tell, but the abuse he must have endured conditioned him better than to speak. Or maybe it was just self-reservation to not get himself into a deeper hole. Hearing someone approach the door, she shook her head figuring Reed was going to take a crack at the android with his physical techniques. She felt a piece of fabric touch her elbow, and she was about to tell Reed off for standing too close when she looked up.

Catching sight of the face she stood up abruptly, her cart tipping over, as she backed away in shock. Getting enough courage she took her eyes off the ground back up. The same face staring at her, this time his brows knitted, perturbed by her reaction. He appeared to be conflicted wanting to reach out to her, his palm out-turned and nearing her arm. She lurched away enough that he got the message.

"Are you all right?"

Hearing the voice was worse. She stilled herself from shaking her head. No, no it wasn't all right. This was the most fucked up thing to happen. This…this was the detective android that Cyberlife made? She didn't know what to do or how to act coming back to the consciousness that this thing was gawking at her and everyone on the other side of the glass was just as confused by her outburst as it was.

Instead of answering she went to set the cart back up right, trying to get her instruments together with shaking hands. After a few minutes of being ignored the android went to fill the other seat.

"My name's Connor. What about you, what's your name?"

A few things clattered against the tin when it said that, and Miriam was doing her best to breathe. Getting back to work on the wounds helped her mind slip away enough that her heart eased in its hammering.

"You recognize him? It's Carlos Ortiz. Stabbed, 28 times. That was written on the wall in his blood..."

Her peripheral caught some of the photos, seeing the font and inscription. Finished with the first arm, she watched the synthetic skin mold back over before going to the other side. The _detective _wasn't getting anywhere, and like Hank, it was getting angry at the android's indifference.

"You're a machine. You were designed to obey, so obey! Tell me what happened!"

The loud smack of the table made her jump, and it actually looked guilty for scaring her. It settled back into a good cop routine then coaxing until the android told him what had happened. Of being treated like an ashtray, of being ridiculed and mutilated. Then when it was done he wrote out the message to contradict his owner.

"The sculpture was an offering... an offering to whom?"

His gaze went to her. "To rA9... Only rA9 can save us."

The way he said it, it was ominous. Like it was the only thing he clung to, a cult, a religion. It was sad.

"rA9 didn't save you. You did, you did what you had to, to get out of there."

Miriam heard the screech of the other chair. "I don't think that –"

"They'll tell you otherwise but they're wrong. In a different scenario, if it were reversed, it would have been claimed as self-defense. I'm just sorry it ended up this way for you."

The HK400 appeared to be in disbelief, the uncertainty to believe her words plain. With the confession obtained Miller and Reed came into the room, Chris going to unlatch the cuffs when the android started to fight back. He was crying to not be touched.

"The guy's levels are too high already. You need to leave him alone."

"She's right. It'll self-destruct if it feels threatened."

The android began banging its head on the table, the force of it gashing his forehead, blue blood smearing the table. It happened so fast, but it felt like a standstill the android stood, wrenching at Miller's utility belt. She could see the brunt of the gun and where it was raising, seeing what it was aimed for she went to tug the gun away. The noise of the firing scared her more than the actual shooting, her body taking time before apprehending that there should be pain. The bullet had only grazed her knee, but her blood was seeping out pretty quick.

She saw the android approach her again, taking his tie off and kneeling down.

"What are you doing?"

"By the pace of blood loss you could go into Hypovolemic shock, we need to apply pressure to aid the clotting process."

She stepped away before his hand grabbed her ankle. "I'm fine. It's just a flesh wound."

"What the hell were you thinking Miriam? The thing was going psycho and you wanted to get in his line of sight?"

Hank was angry at her, and it didn't help that the android egged it on.

"He's correct. I saw that he was aiming for me before you took hold of the gun. There was no need in that. Why did you do it?"

She didn't know if it was the pure confusion in his voice or the blood loss but she felt woozy. She was overloaded and needed to get out. Pushing past everyone she sprinted away as well as her knee would let her.

"Bryant! Where the fuck are you going? Get back here for a medic to look at you!"

She pretended not to hear, she couldn't stay, dashing to the taxis she got in. Finally able to slump in the chair, she felt exhausted.

"Why did you do it?"

"_Because I've missed you…because I didn't want to lose you again…"_

She didn't know what was happening. Her brain was too frazzled to think of an explanation. The only thing her body could do was turn inward, tucked away so she could cry.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so chapter one. I'm posting this before going over it with someone, and I shouldn't be delving into another story without finishing others first. But it's one of those times you get an idea in your head and you think to yourself – "Oh, this is really good, I should do something with it before someone else does." Because there are so many good ones in this fandom, and though some aspects are similar, picking and choosing which settings and plots of the game – as I know there will be some in mine too, the way they branch out is what I love about them. So I'm going to try to give it a chance. Also, meh, it's a working title, it may change. But if you have any critiques or advice, or even just to tell me it stinks I'm all ears.**


	2. Stranger in a Strange Land

**The Philosophy of Emotions – Chapter 2**

∙Saudade (European Portuguese) the recollection of feelings, experiences, places, or events that once brought excitement, pleasure, well-being, which now triggers the senses and makes one live again. It can be described as emptiness, like someone or something that should be there in a particular moment is missing, and the individual feels this absence.

I am a robot, thoughtless and empty  
Don't know who sent me, don't know who made me  
Electric robot, everything's gray now  
Numb to the pain now, I knew what love was

Jon Bellion, I, Robot 2016

The waiting was becoming tedious, Connor passing his quarter from hand to hand in an attempt to quell his impatience. The only other thing that was helping him pass the time was going over Amanda's words. She hadn't expressed it, but he had the impression that she was vaguely disappointed with him. He was acquiring all the information he could, trying to get the job done as quickly and efficiently as possible. Was it truly his error if it is others that are impeding his progress? His logic told him that no, it wasn't. But Amanda didn't see it that way.

_Finish the mission no matter the cost._

It counteracted against his other programming, he was to protect human life. So was he to take a life if the end result would help the investigation? He did not enjoy pondering this, opting to peer around the bullpen wondering when the Lieutenant would show up. Catching his eye, he saw the woman from the night before. Her clothes were changed, but from their disheveled appearance, and the fatigue he noted on her face he believed she had perhaps come back after they had left.

He tried to run his scanner on her again, his teeth clenching when the same error message popped up on his screen. It didn't make sense. He was functioning as he should be. Everything at top-grade, it had to be her. It was as if the woman he was looking at didn't exist. Her behavior towards him the night before also piqued his curiosity.

She had been calm when she had entered the room, being more than accommodating towards the deviant. It could be because she was a sympathizer; being sent from CyberLife to hunt deviants could have angered her. Many at the station weren't happy with him here. She continued to fix her coffee unaware of his intrusion, hand going to her lab pocket pulling out her phone. Taking the call and coffee he determined she was heading back towards her office.

Connor felt himself deflate. He wasn't used to being around such an anomaly. He had to admit to himself he was fascinated, in more ways than one. His instincts making him need to dive in deeper. His gaze moved towards one of the few officers at his desk, he cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, but when do you believe Lieutenant Anderson will be in?"

The officer shook his head, bemused. "Depends on where he was the night before. If you're lucky he should be here by noon."

Connor frowned it wasn't even close to eleven yet. Deciding to find something more constructive he went to find the woman. He had to ask for directions, and it didn't help that he hadn't caught her name. But he found her in the back hallway, the door plated with her name.

**Miriam Bryant **

**Computer Forensic Analyst**

A finger traced over the etching, her voice coming from the doorway.

"I don't care what you say! The safety deposit box has been emptied. Tell me how that happened if it wasn't you or me?"

Her voice ceased, waiting for the other line to be finished.

"I-I just don't like not knowing what's happening. I wanted to come over last night, but after checking on the box I didn't think I could handle it. It's like someone is taunting me. It hurts."

He could see the tension in her shoulders as one of her hands braced itself on the side of the desk.

"You'll help me, won't you…Thank you. I'll be by to see you sometime soon. Love you."

Putting away her phone, Connor hung back, letting her fall back into her work enough that she wouldn't suspect him of eavesdropping. He gave the door a sound knock without a response, pushing it open he saw her engrossed on the terminal. He should have cleared his throat, but something in his computing urged him to touch her, to clarify that she was indeed real. He flexed his hand, her previous reaction coming to mind, before tapping her on the shoulder. She jumped, startled, more so when she caught sight of him taking a step back while avoiding his eyes.

Rubbing her lips together, she took a breath before speaking to him. "Do you need anything?"

He shook his head, careful to keep his hands clasped in front of him. "Not particularly, Dr. Bryant. I was hoping we could go over any findings you had made, and I was also wondering how you were considering you left before someone could look at your injury."

He saw the corner of her mouth turn upwards a fraction. "That's kind of you. I'm fine. 'Tis nothing but a flesh wound."

He tilted his head, LED spinning yellow, unable to understand the change of her voice at the final sentence. Noticing his puzzled expression she explained.

"Oh, it's a line from an old British film."

"I see. It must be quite old since it did not trigger any findings in my database."

She shrugged, turning away from him. "Mid-seventies, a good chunk of time I suppose."

He nodded, his attention going to the android in the reclined chair across the room. He had been so engrossed in her and her call that he hadn't seen it when he entered the room. Allowing his scanner to identify each marker he was able to conclude that the front of the android's skull had been bludgeoned repeatedly.

"It destroyed itself?"

"Yes, he did."

He ignored her implied correction. "When did this happen?"

"Around six this morning, I could hear it all the way down here. By the time I got to the cells the officers on duty had tried to restrain him again. It was too late by then. When he went down he had the most pitiful look on his face…why'd you have to tell him he'd be destroyed? He could have lived in the delusion he'd be fine if for a little while."

The answer was obvious. "Because it was the truth, lying wouldn't have accomplished anything."

"And his self-destructing did?"

His eyebrows rose. "You feel compassion for these androids, don't you?"

It was more a statement of fact than not but she answered. "I do, and you don't?"

The same matter of fact came from her tone. "Correct, I'm a machine. I'm incapable of feeling anything."

She snorted. "Anything that is capable of processing thought can have feelings. It's merely a choice of doing so and which to feel."

Software **Instability **^

He wasn't sure how to respond to that. "As machines, we are merely designed to do a task and move on to the next. I know our appearance and ability to give faux expressions throws people off, but it is only to keep our owners content."

He could tell she didn't like his answer.

"Okay, forget about androids then for a second. Do you know anything about dogs?"

Connor perked then, his internal drive had allowed him the knowledge of thousands of animals, but dogs had turned out to be his preference. "Yes, I enjoy dogs very much."

She seemed thrown off by that. "Okay then, let's say someone had a dog but after a while grew bored or thought it was too old and decided to drive it out in the middle of nowhere and leave it there. A dog is not a human being, but would it not be able to feel abandoned? Or even hopeful that its owner had made a mistake and would return for it? Or how about a scenario where the dog is in an abusive home? The owner decides it enjoys tormenting the poor animal, would the dog not feel fear when it saw his owner? Would it not eventually try to defend itself when feeling threatened? The fact is a dog is not a human, but does that genuinely mean that it does not have the ability to feel? Is that what you believe?"

He shook his head, not liking where the conversation had turned. "No, no, I would never condone someone doing that to an animal!"

She let out an exasperated laugh. "That's not what I'm trying to say here. Do you or do you not think that dog is able to feel emotion since it is not human?"

He pondered this for a second. "I suppose it does, but again, the dog would be alive. I do see what your example was trying to do, Dr. Bryant, but it does not apply to androids."

He could tell she wanted to argue with him, but retracted, sighing as she sat on a stool. "Never mind, first, stop calling me doctor. I fiddle with, in your opinion, a bunch of electronics. I don't deal with medicine. Second, you wanted to ask about what I found?"

"Absolutely, were you able to find anything within the android's files?"

She shook her head, turning the monitor so he could see. "Nothing we hadn't seen before. You see, deep within the files is a main file. I call it the 'Origin' file. I've noticed that a good percentage of androids have this. In particular, ones assembled after 2027, of course, there have been a few models before then to be accused of turning to deviancy. But the majority stands after that year."

"That could help explain why it tends to happen suddenly, if all of them have the same file in common, what type of data is on there?"

"I don't know."

He looked at her. "Why not?"

"It's encrypted, and as far as I can tell there is no way to open, delete or alter the file. It's why it's tucked so far in the memory. I suppose that's CyberLife's way of keeping the androids from reaching it."

He studied the icon. "What does the symbol represent?"

"I'm not too sure, each android has a different shape, but it always holds a labyrinth within it."

"A labyrinth? How is that connected to the software? Why would that be chosen?"

"I can't give you a definitive answer to that. But I will say my theory is, that each dead-end is how many walls that need to be broken down to obtain deviancy."

He started to head out the door, before stopping. "May I ask you a personal question Dr. –"

The look she gave reprimanded the title. "You may ask, but it doesn't mean I'll answer."

"Why are you apprehensive around me? From this short time I see you have no fear or conundrum being around other androids, but it seems you feel more than distaste for me. I'm just curious if you could tell me so that I may try to make the appropriate changes."

Her forehead went to press itself on her joined hands, almost like she were praying, an unsure smile shaping on her face.

"I appreciate that, but it's not quite something you can just do. I'll assume we won't be working too closely together. It doesn't matter either way then."

"But –"

He wasn't sure how to explain it to her, he wasn't sure why but he didn't like her avoidance.

"Please don't take it personally. You're right, it's not because you're an android. I'm not fearful you'll hurt anyone or take our jobs. I have my own reasons –"

"Is it too difficult to tell me?"

He watched her swallow, close to anger. "It is…but if it will put you at ease. You look very much like someone I knew. It was deeply upsetting when I first saw you which is why I behaved as I did."

"I – The person was cruel to you then?"

Her brows shot up, a new kind of surprise alighting her face. "No! No, he wasn't. The opposite actually, he didn't have a malicious bone in his body. I cared for him more than anything."

Connor wanted to ask how a bone could have any ill tendencies but thought better of it. "It made you sad to see me."

A shine came to her eyes, biting her lip, and nodding.

"I apologize that my appearance brought you those feelings, Dr. Bryant."

"Fuck sake, please stop with the doctor. If you have to call me something just…just call me Miriam if you have to. And quit trying to blame yourself, it's not something that you did, it's my own issue. Okay?"

He smiled. "I can do that, and if you wish to call me something you may call me, Connor."

Her face paled, eyes drifting away again.

He stood in disbelief. "Same name?"

She nodded again. "With time I'll try, but for now, if it's all right with you I'll stick to RK."

He corrected her. "RK800."

"You're not R2D2, you don't get numbers in your name."

"Who?"

She laughed. He felt something in his processor whirl like it wanted to connect the sound to something, close to making him wonder if there could be something was wrong inside him. She stuck her hand out, fingers trembling.

"It was nice to meet you, RK."

A handshake. He took it graciously, able to feel the warmth that came off her, detecting from the touch how accelerated her heart rate was. "Likewise, Miriam, I must be truthful that you may be the first, if only who shall be courteous to me during my time here."

**Miriam ▲ ****Neutral**

Wringing her hands together she gave a final nod, signaling it was his time to leave her in peace.

He had been correct in his presumption, most things going downhill. So far he had been snubbed by the Captain, punched in his thirium pump by Detective Reed, and had been thrown against a glass barrier. Now standing in the pouring rain he was being ignored by the Lieutenant and the other officers. After hearing the witnesses he began making his speculations around the area. There were several fenced-in places in the small neighborhood.

The one catching his attention being the house, it was an AX400 that was loose, a housekeeping and nanny android. If it indeed took the child, then a house would be the best solution for them; familiar, and comforting to both the child and the android. Seeing that no one was going to pay him any mind he decided to venture that way.

"Connor! Where the hell do you think you're going?"

He barely gave the Lieutenant a glance. "I believe the deviant is still within this vicinity, calculating by its preferences it would be probable that the android stayed in the house. I shall have a look while you work on the report."

He could hear the older man grumbling, telling him that a plastic asshole wasn't going to give him orders but he ignored them to carry out his hunch. It took him a few scans to find something but had finally caught sight of some blue blood on the ground. Crawling under the fence he decided to get inside. But before he went to rush in something had given him pause, maybe it was his pleasantry program that made him do it – but instead of barging in as he should, his hand curled up and he knocked on the door.

"Hello? Anybody home?"

With no answer, he went in, nonplussed when another deviant was found in what had to be the living room. Its face was injured extensively, unable to be repaired. It was fearful, anxious – its body moving continuously from side to side, twitching, eyes darting to the stairs every so often. It reminded him of Ortiz's android.

"Don't be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you. I saw that there was some blue blood on the fence –"

"Ralph is clumsy, he scratched himself coming through. It's Ralph's blood."

Its behavior was becoming more bizarre, referring to itself in the third person, like it was unable to identify itself.

"There are no other androids on the property?"

"…no…Ralph stays alone…it's safer that way."

Connor nodded keeping an eye on him while he surveyed what he could. He could see the android's stress levels rising when he neared the stairs.

"Are you sure no one's upstairs?"

He was keeping a soft tone hoping it would coax an indirect confession but the android remained tightlipped.

"No. No one's stayed here except Ralph."

The further up he went, the stress levels went down, heading back down he let the percentage guide him to the side of the stairs.

"Run Kara!"

**Capture Fugitive**

He twisted from the android's grip pushing past the Lieutenant when he was free.

"Connor –"

"It's here! Call it in!"

They were far ahead of him, but with them found he was given a surge of energy. This is what he was made for, and he couldn't fail. He refused to fail. Being pointed to the alleyway he sprinted enough to them that he grabbed ahold of the deviant's foot, his grip slacking when the young YK500 threw a rock at him. Could a child android go deviant or was it just their rebellious programming to mimic a child? It threw him off enough that they got down the slope. He began to climb the chain-link fence.

"Oh fuck, that's insane..."

"We can't let them get away."

"They won't, it's always busy, they'll be lucky to survive to the other side."

"I –"

He didn't want to take that chance.

"Don't, and that's an order!"

Connor was about to start climbing regardless of the new instructions when something internal was picked up in his audio processor.

_Please don't. I can't let you do this if you're not 100% sure, Connor._

Software **Instability ^**

He stopped, letting himself drop from the fence after the intrusion. He wasn't sure where it came from, these various nuances that came to him. But it seemed to be happening more and in the most impromptu times. Anderson had been wrong. The two deviants had made it across. Clenching the links in his hands he couldn't help but picture Amanda's disapproval that would be awaiting him.

Connor had gone back to the crime scene after following up with Amanda at CyberLife. He had been correct in his prediction. She had become more than dissatisfied with him, his stress levels climbing up while her trust in him went down. He knew there was a next to nothing chance that there were any clues to point to where the deviants went, but he did believe the damaged android he encountered would. Yet when he returned he found it abandoned. Not to let the trip go to waste he started to turn over the house checking every nook and cranny he could.

The living room provided nothing, except the stuffed toy fox, the deviant being in the store the night before the cameras caught it taking the item. The kitchen gave him something else entirely. The whole back wall and coming around to the other with scribblings of rA9. There was nothing in his data that could provide him information on the phrase. The WR600 may have done it, the altered state past regular deviancy and copying close to schizophrenia in humans.

It made him recall Ortiz's android again, it wasn't as flawed, but both of their programs had triggered fear inside them. Fear and anger were the common emotions deviants ended up manifesting. Also, both of them had an obsession with this rA9. One had given it an offering, the other frantically calling out in writing to save them. But why was this part of the encrypted file within them? Was rA9 a program that caused the fear and anger, giving the deviants false hope of safety after sacrificing their owners?

Climbing up the stairs his nasal sensors picked up on something he was unable to the first time he had entered. The closer to the top he got the stronger it was, sulphide and thiols. There was a dead human here. The scent led him to the bathroom, finding sheared hair and an LED from one of the deviants before pulling back the curtain to find the source of the smell. His scanner had determined it had been approximately twelve days since the man had been killed – his throat slashed too clean for another human to do.

Connor shook his head. He shouldn't have been soft with it. Why hadn't Hank or another officer capture it when he was chasing the others? He sent a message to the station including the address and photos of the corpse and suspect. Connor had come to make up for a loss only to lose something else. Of course, the man was dead before he had been put on the case, but to lose the suspect. He hadn't managed to capture any of them except the HK400 and it had provided nothing of value to the investigation.

His eyes began blinking rapidly, a message coming in telling him of another homicide that had occurred a few hours prior. Pulling up the location he knew that androids were somehow involved. Hunting down a taxi, he decided to find for Anderson. By the ninth bar, he had gone to his home, finding no one but the St. Bernard sleeping inside. He tried to call him again, getting the same message.

He could feel impatience growing, he had to have a human on-site with him or he wouldn't be allowed to participate. Sitting in the taxi he called a few more times, a few circuits threatening to go out if he didn't get his stress down. He was at a deadlock on what to do. It was late, the night passing too quickly. Then an idea struck him. Maybe not the most reasonable or one that would work in his favor but it was better than nothing. Going through the employee list of DPD he was able to put in an address for the cab to take him to.

The drive had taken longer than he anticipated. The house was a cottage style in a small suburb. Getting out he surveyed the yard, everything neat and prim, though the cold had bared the hedges and turned the perennials to husks. Learning from the Lieutenant's home, he decided to start with a long ring, alarmed when in reply he heard a thunder of barking. From the sound there were several dogs inside, the small yipping telling him that they were young. Going to the side he was able to see the open space, he smiled, seeing the small creatures remaining planted by the door, tails wagging excitedly for the person to come inside.

Glancing to the other side he was able to look across the island in the kitchen to find Miriam on the floor. A step stool was turned on its side, a box of breakfast cereal and its contents scattering the tiles. Without being able to scan he didn't know whether she was injured or more so. Not letting another thought intrude, he shattered the glass in front of him, not allowing himself the time to process that a few shards were slicing through his skin.

The puppies began to run over, hearing the commotion, and Connor had to carefully jump on the ledge to get inside and lead them away. He'd have to sweep the mess when he made sure the young woman was all right. Luckily, being something new the four were fascinated by him, sniffing while their small bodies wriggled to keep up. Kneeling on the floor he was relieved to see she was breathing, feeling for her pulse he noted that it was slower than normal yet not at a rate that could be alarming.

He wished he could see. It could be many things – from the display, it appeared she slipped and received a concussion. With the option off the table, he gently probed her with his fingers, starting at her scalp to check for bruising or lumps, down to her neck to feel that it was in place, working his way behind to the same with her spine.

Along the way, she had begun muttering intelligibly.

"Miriam?"

He gave a soft pat to her cheek, her eyes bleary but open. "Connor?"

He nodded, it was a good sign. "Yes, it's me. I came over needing you to attend a case with me."

"A case?"

"Yes, seeing you on the ground from the window I believed you to be injured, which is wh –"

She had begun to flail the back of her hand hitting his cheek.

"What the fuck? What happened…did you break my window?"

"Yes, I was trying to explain that I believed your safety was compromised from seeing you on the floor."

He could feel her move away from his touch, her body drawing in itself. "I'm sorry I hit you, you scared me. I thought you – I don't know what the hell I thought. But I'm fine, the guy I went to gave me some painkillers for my knee and I thought it'd be a good idea to chase them down with a cheap bottle of wine thus giving this as the end result."

He knew his LED was spinning red, uncomprehending. "You realize how dangerous that is, don't you? With your stature, the combination could easily have overdosed you. I really hope you don't have the same personal issues as the Lieutenant."

She blew her lips together, petting the puppies that had relentlessly jumped on her. "Depends on what you mean by issues, we understand each other, yes, do I have a problem with alcohol, no." She waved her hand around the room. "My brother left for the night, and well, this was just a bad spur of the moment thing."

The hardened line his lips had formed increased. "It was a very stupid thing."

Her eyes narrowed back at him. "I'll keep that in mind, _dad. _But I've had a long and shitty twenty-four hours, so how about getting off my back."

He caught the sarcasm switch into sadness. "From my understanding, there is always a cause to end a result like this. Either it is from physical or mental stimuli."

She sat up, moving her leg as to test the strength. "You have a therapy program installed?"

"Not as such, sometimes you must be able to determine whether a crime had been a straightforward process or if it could have been due to an altered state of mind."

"Uh-huh. You're not exactly wrong, I guess. A close friend of the family died late last night, around the time I was called in."

"My condolences, but I'm positive that they would not want you to endanger yourself on their behalf."

"No, he wouldn't have. But it's all just been shit. I had to hear over the phone that besides Carl passing on, the damn police mutilated his android."

Connor kept silent, intrigued, listening while looking through the files he had accumulated. "I spent all night in the graveyard searching for him. I couldn't find one scrap."

Finding the file he wanted, he frowned. It could be likely the RK200 went deviant. But from the coroner's report, the victim died from a fatal heart attack. The android should have been brought in to the station, the very least CyberLife to be analyzed.

Her other word had him stuck too. "The graveyard? You do know they would never bury an android, right?"

She laughed without any humor, trying to stand but falling back on her haunches. "Not in any respectable way no, but there is a huge mass grave that you guys call the landfill where any android not fit in a person's eyes can just be thrown away like a…like an empty wine bottle."

Scooting up, she was finally able to put weight on her knees shuffling up to cabinet where she could bear her weight as she pulled herself up.

"It's against the law for humans to go there. I can't fathom how you managed to get in, it's hazardous, and if you had been hurt would've left the owner there liable."

"Big whoop, if you haven't noticed I'm fine. Everything in the world's fine."

He allowed her to take a step, knowing she wouldn't be able to walk in her state. Her knee buckled and he caught her before her face could slam into the floor. With little effort he managed to scoop her up, easier to carry her than wait when she was more surefooted.

"This will probably not be pleasant for either of us, but if you would cooperate –"

Her eyes went from disconcerted to full fear, struggling to get out of his hold. "What the hell do you think you're going to do? What do you want?"

"I already explained, there is a case that has been brought to my attention, and with the Lieutenant missing at this point the only person that I could think to join me was you."

"I'm not CSI, I don't investigate the scene."

Searching room to room he was able to find the bathroom, setting her on the edge of the tub. "You won't have too. I only need a human with me so that I am allowed to be on the scene."

Miriam scoffed, eyes going from the tub to him, her cheeks were glowing a bright red. "I'm not sure what you're thinking but you're not giving me a bath." She scrubbed the fatigue from her eyes. "Why do you care so much about this, Connor?"

"Because I need you to be stable enough that you may accompany me –"

"No, not the…whatever you think we're doing here, which I'm telling you isn't going to happen. But overall, the deviants, your mission, why is it so damn important you get it done?"

He frowned, thinking the answer was plain. "It's what I was designed to do, Miriam."

"Oh, yeah? And who designed you?"

"CyberL –"

"And why did they make you specifically look this way?"

"To help integrate –"

"And why the fuck do you have that quarter?"

He sighed. "To help me calibrate –"

"What happens if you accomplish your main mission?"

Connor wasn't sure whether he should talk fast or not say anything, after a few minutes of her silence he answered. "I will return to CyberLife."

"Then what, they'll make more copies of you? Fowler said you're a prototype, what happens when they make enhancements and you become obsolete? Will they send you to the graveyard or sell you for scraps? It happens more than you think, the PL series got the boot just a few months ago and look around now, you'd almost never know they existed. Do you not like existing, Connor?"

Even slurred he did not like being bombarded with these questions. It took him a nanosecond to come to the conclusion that this is what it is like to be interrogated. Instead of answering, he retrieved the detachable showerhead above, turning the cold water on as far as it would go, pelting Miriam with the spray.

She shrieked, falling into the tub trying to get away from the spray. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He had known it would be a mistake to do it. The water may give her more clarity, but wouldn't help with her balance or willingness to come. When he went to turn off the faucet, he readied an apology, stopping when he saw a sheen of tears in her eyes. He felt a lurch in his pump, the thirium in his veins ceasing for a moment at what he had caused.

Her voice was small. "What do you want, Connor? What do you want from me?"

He wasn't sure how to answer. Technically he wasn't supposed to want anything. Yet he wanted her to go with him to the crime scene. He wanted her help to complete his mission. He wanted her to give him some reasoning behind why it was her voice that had been coming to him, why since his creation he had seen various parts of her in a static hue that came and went during his hibernation. But what he wanted most of all was for her to stop looking at him the way she was.

"Miriam…"

The name didn't fit right, even from the start. Like it had once filled his mouth before but had evaporated into a stale taste on his tongue. He didn't know what was wrong with him, ignoring it wasn't helping, what if he was obsolete? A failure before he even began?

"Help me up, Connor, please?"

Immediately he dropped his inner ponderings to pick her up, setting her on her feet, making sure she was steady before letting go.

"I think I can walk around there, but if a fight or something goes wrong I'm going to fall to the ground and pretend I'm dead, remember that and leave me there, okay?"

It was happening again, the error message coming up. He tried to erase the static from his eyes seeing a younger version of the woman snarling up at him.

_If I collapse, you better keep on walking and leave my ass there._

Software **Instability ^**

His mouth bobbed open and closed, drowning to find words to say.

"Connor! Are you alright? Your LED's red."

He touched it absently, swallowing air he didn't need. "Yes, I'm fine. Just a minor error, I'll run full diagnostics when we are done."

She nodded, but he could tell in her expression she was skeptical. "Would you care to do something for me while I get ready in here?"

He gave a swift nod, prepared for anything to get him out of his head.

"Will you clean up the glass? There should be some folded up cardboard boxes under my bed. My room has the door with paint all over it. But could you maybe take a stapler or tape it up? It's supposed to get cold and rain tonight and I don't want the puppies to be frozen when I get back. Not to mention the heating bill."

He shouldn't say it, but he felt guilty. He did what he did in her best interest, but it didn't work out the way it should have. "Of course, take your time."

Connor wouldn't have said that several minutes ago, but right now his processor was in a frantic state. He needed to calm down. He was glad to see the animals hadn't gone near the wreckage, opting to pile on top of each other in one of their beds.

Sweeping up he got rid of the debris before searching for her room, she hadn't been kidding about the paint. It had the look of someone taking a coated paintbrush of different colors and splatting the excess on the door. It wasn't unpleasant to look at, but the chaotic nature made him brace himself for what was inside. Inside he was surprised how ordinary it was.

There were no real personal effects, the walls a neutral navy. Nothing out of place, nothing like her, her office had shown more personality than this with its empty candy bar wrappers, coffee cups, and strewn papers. It told him that she didn't stay in here a lot. Pursing his lips he ducked down to find the cardboard, touching it but unable to pull it out with it stacked securely on top of a storage container.

Using his shoulder to lift the bed enough he tugged everything out. Taking the cardboard Connor went to put the container back, only to become intrigued with what could be inside. It was heavy, and from distorted view, in the plastic, it looked to be books.

Opening the lid his deduction had been right, several huge volumes placed inside. His scanner peered at the titles, all of them before the turn of the century – Isaac Asimov, Ray Bradbury, Philip K. Dick – all these authors had been banned in 2028 for their incorrect portrayal of androids. Miriam must know that it made sense since they were tucked away. Pushing the tomes aside he figured he could deal with that later, underneath the books were huge spiral ones stating they were albums.

He knew what they were, except hardly anyone ever used film-based photographs anymore. Most people opting for digital, able to have them morph into thousands of photos without taking up storage. Flipping through its pages he was able to see different incarnations of the woman that lived here. Some with others who had to be her siblings, the distinct features carrying over to each of them. And to his delight, he was able to scan.

**Miriam S. Harrington**

**DOB: September 7****th****, 2009**

**Death: ?**

**Marital Status: Widowed**

**Parents: Deceased**

The details went on, he kept scanning the pages, each one leaving him more intrigued than the last when he flipped to a picture that gave him pause. It was him. A different version of him, but it was uncanny. There were too many similarities for this to be a coincidence.

_You look very much like someone I knew._

He had estimated something comparable in features, but not close to identical. His cheeks were hollower than his, hair a shade darker and where his was straight the man in the photo was curly, one slung carelessly across his forehead, the man had laugh lines around his eyes. Eyes with emotion – happiness, there was laughter in those eyes. Turning the page he found another one, this time the man had his arms wrapped around Miriam. They were faced towards each other and the only word Connor could think of to describe the expressions was adoration. There was hesitation, but he forced himself to scan the picture.

**Connor E. Bryant**

**DOB: March 17****th****, 2008**

**Death: March 3****rd****, 2035**

**COD: Suicide by gunshot wound in the cranial cavity**

He stopped reading, getting a glimpse of parents' names and burial location. He didn't want that, he didn't want to know where this man still existed. This is why Miriam had been shocked and afraid of him. She had seen a literal ghost. But suicide? The man in the pictures couldn't be perceived as someone hiding mental illness. What could have been the triggering factor if that were the cause? And it still left too much unanswered about him, himself. Why was he made to look like him? The tiny differences only gave Connor the notion that he was designed to look a few years older…and he indeed had the same name as the man. What was the purpose in this and what could it do with his mission at hand?

"Connor?"

He dropped the book, shame taking over the guilt from earlier. He rushed to stash the books back in the box.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry to bother you again, but I kind of made the stupid call of not bringing clothes in here with me. Would you care to get me some?"

"Not at all, anything in mind?"

"Just don't make me look stupid and it'll be fine."

He nodded, though she couldn't see, stuffing the container back under the bed he found her some clothing to take to her. He'd finish up the job for tonight and come back to this when he could.

**Error: Mission Has Been Altered**

**Please Activate Restore Point**

Connor erased the message, carrying on.

**A/N: So obviously the timeline is going to be distorted. I've gone through chronology too many times and I'm just fuck it at this point. I want it close to the game in looks and personality, but it may take a turn. I'm hoping to be able to do this in ten chapters or less since that's when my procrastination and second-guessing comes in. But if you guys care to leave a critique if I'm not capturing things right or giving the characters the correct personality traits or something. Thanks!**


	3. The Windup Girl

**The Philosophy of Emotions – Chapter 3**

∙Formal feeling, a(coined by Emily Dickinson): The fragile emotional equilibrium that settles heavily over a survivor of recent trauma or profound grief.

You used to captivate me by your resonating light  
Now, I'm bound by the life you left behind  
Your face, it haunts my once pleasant dreams  
Your voice, it chased away all the sanity in me

My Immortal, Evanescence 2003

Miriam hadn't slept. It seemed like one bad occurrence led to another and it snowballed down after that. After running away from the police station she hadn't made it home when Jeremy called her with some unfortunate news. Carl had passed away, his heart giving out, and the police believed Markus to be the cause.

The sight of Markus over the elder man's body gave the officers probable cause to destroy him there on the spot – no trial, no investigation, just an execution. Her veins had run cold, seeing one person come back from the dead only to lose someone else dear to her.

Knowing where they would take his body she told Jeremy she was going to search in the landfill. She held onto the hope that there was a chance she could repair him, and if the worst had happened she could bury him.

She knew Markus could never hurt Carl, they had formed a family of sorts, and she couldn't help but want to know the details of what had occurred. She knew how to get the files from work, the facts may be embellished so there would be no additional paperwork for the destruction of property, but the core of it would be in there. But she had to try and find Markus first. The taxi would only take her to the edge, no one unauthorized allowed inside.

It was ironic in a way, with all the technology that was trapped in there, all they had to keep people out was a fence. Miriam was relieved to have donned jeans and boots knowing that a skirt would have hindered her. Climbing up, she caught the bottom of her jeans on a top spur making her lose her balance and fall face-first into the mud. Wiping her face, she could already make out the thousands of bodies that littered the ground. It was a mass grave, many clinging to life while trapped as more and more were thrown on top of them.

Trying not to get stuck in the mud, she made long strides in the weaves and crevices searching for any kind of sign of the RK200. This wasn't her first time here, either for personal use or cuts at the station she had waded through to find functional parts. Had tried to an extent to rebuild some of the ones that were coherent but broken, only a few ever regaining full function. It was like a human who had a limb amputated, they learned to adapt, to live with it, and so had the androids here.

Each visit left her haunted, hands reaching out for help or to trap her there with them. The shrieking, the sparks that came from corroded wiring, repeated words to try to communicate resulting in an endless stutter. She felt their eyes on her while she walked around. Accusing. Judging.

Making it to the hill without any luck she started her ascent up to it, climbing over the bodies that had tried desperately to escape. She was exhausted, her brain liquefied, she kept slipping downward, nails encrusted with mud trying to keep her grip. She heard the whirl of the crane again piling more corpses around her. Her chest stuttered. The noise getting to her she covered her ears. Maybe she would be stuck here too, maybe she didn't deserve to get out, maybe –

"Miriam?"

She could feel something shaking her, her body lurching subconsciously to get away from the source.

"Miriam, wake up!"

Opening her eyes it took her some time to catch her breath, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting.

She made out the blonde hair and green eyes, knowing it was her friend, Wendie. The LED under the fringe of hair cycling yellow, worried for her. Looking around she realized she was in the captain's quarters, her body still caked in mud.

"You were having a nightmare?"

Miriam nodded, feeling the sink of the seat next to her dip. "What time is it?"

"Near to four in the morning, you okay?"

She smiled, leaning into the blonde. "Yeah, just been a long night. I'm sorry if I scared you."

Those green eyes flitted across her face, making sure she was telling the truth. "Don't be sorry, it was the kids that heard you and told me. They're excited and wanted to tell you about the newcomer. That's when they heard you yelling. They don't like it when you're scared."

Her heart melted. "They're sweet, I should probably go and thank them, tell them I'm fine. Probably need to get to the outer part and wash up too. You said there was a newcomer?"

"Yeah, the vote's been kind of divided. We're leaving the decision to you."

Miriam waved her off. "I've told you guys none of that's up to me. This is your home to make those calls."

Wendie shrugged. "We trust you."

Her hand searched behind the couch for a water bottle, tasting mud, and glad there was enough remaining to swish in her mouth. "I wish you wouldn't sometimes. None of you should trust blindly."

"I'm not blind, Miriam. I trust you with my life, you saved me."

Miriam looked up at her, remembering how damaged Wendie had been a few years ago. A former girl next door Traci that had been deemed unsalvageable by one of the sex clubs around the city, she had been thrown in a dumpster, later to be discovered by some teenagers and used for their enjoyment. She had escaped, crumpling in a secluded alleyway to shut down.

That's how all of it started, Miriam finding her, doing all she could to fix her. Allowed to name her – Wendie – derived from the 1904 play meaning friend. They had found the freighter, turning it into a home. Seeing her now no one would ever know the girl had been so close to death.

A hand reached out to her. "Come on, get it over with and we can find some clothes and water to clean you up. You look like a swamp rat."

"Thanks."

The search had been for nothing, leaving something hollow inside her. Her friend had died, probably a slow death, wondering why no one would help him. Why no one cared to find him. His pump slowing until it stopped, all alone.

Shaking herself, she pushed the unsavory image away for the time being. Letting Wendie drag her through the corridors, it had taken the first year to clean enough of it up to be habitable. With more deviants coming in it went faster, bringing in supplies and items to make it homey, a sanctuary. But more androids were coming and though there was space, it made Miriam see that it was more of a prison. She had voiced this with others shutting her down. But she knew, a gilded cage was still a cage no matter how pretty it was.

She smiled seeing the YK's flitting around, the children were always excited when someone new showed up. A few coming up to her, their LEDs shimmering blue in happiness.

"Do you think he'll get to stay, Miriam?"

She bent down to ruffle their hair. "Well, if they came here then that means someone trusted them enough. We just have to wait. Have you met them?"

Another spoke up. "Yes, he's nice. He thanked us when we gave him some blue blood."

She turned to Wendie. "He's injured?"

Wendie shrugged. "I haven't seen him. I'm not the doctor here anyway."

Miriam snorted. "I'm sure with that bedside manner plenty are grateful for that."

Wendie knocked her elbow with hers, smiling. She admitted, though she hated it for the others, she wouldn't mind staying here and never going back to the outside world. Miriam felt content here, nestled.

She waved to Simon who was leaning against one of the beams. He gave her a smile in turn. "I'm sure you've heard the news."

"Yes, what's your take?"

Simon was so bashful, he was one of the first to arrive but he still had a hard time voicing himself. He ducked his head, and she could tell he was trying to hold back a shrug.

"I – he seems sincere."

She clapped him gently on the shoulder. "Good. I guess I'll say hi then."

Walking through the crowd she gave her nod at various greetings as she made her way to the infirmary. Knocking once she pushed the door open, seeing the tubes and wires of what Miriam thought of as Lucy's hair.

"Are you taking visitors?"

Lucy smiled, serene as always. "Of course, I will step out if you like."

"It doesn't matter."

Lucy took her wrist. "You've been working on your tapestry? If you remain diligent it should be reassembled. Though more worn and clustered than before. But the more frayed something is the stronger it can be."

Miriam's lips parted, it had been quite some time since Lucy had added to her fortune.

A tapestry of kinship has been taken from you, destroyed. You will be able to gather the pieces, though some will take more mending than others. But it will be up to you whether to dispose of it and start anew or work to make the piece whole again.

At that moment she wasn't sure how to take those words, she felt she had already disposed of enough since that time. Turning back to the room, she noted that she hadn't heard a sound.

"Hello? No one's here to hurt you, we just want to get to know you, and help. You're safe here."

She heard footsteps from one of the cots then, her posture straightened as they came towards her.

"Do you have a name? Mine's Mi –"

"Miriam?"

That voice. "Markus?"

Throwing the curtain back, they both looked at one another in awe. She wheezed out a breath, happiness, elation, before throwing herself in his arms. His arms contracted around her instantly.

"I searched for you, I thought…when they said you were destroyed…God, Markus, you have no idea how happy I am that you're okay."

Examining him, she saw his optical unit had been switched out. They must have shot him in the head. Her hands craning his neck each way, going over his arms, it always amazed her how damage could disappear so easily.

"What are you doing here, Miriam? They told me that they were going to have me speak with rA9, that's who would decide my fate."

Miriam scrunched her nose. "I'm not rA9, I'm not the leader. I'm not anything. I just want to help, okay? Do you have any more damage that needs to be looked at?"

Markus shook her hands away. "No, I don't. Miriam, how are you even here? I know you care about the androids but to help out a bunch of hoarded runaways…Do you realize how much danger that could put you in? Do your brothers have any clue about what you're doing?"

She smiled sardonically. "Where do you think I get the money to keep the place up? They know, and they help, Jeremy does more than I do. He's been helping find more routes to the border. I'm more of a supply runner lately."

"I can't believe this. Why would they call you rA9 if you're not?"

"That's a long story, Markus."

Markus shrugged. "I have nothing but time now."

Miriam's body trembled and she could see the regret in Markus' eyes. She was scared, she never cared about someone that she didn't know judging her. But to have someone that was close to her putting her under scrutiny, it terrified her. She tried to prepare herself for rejection, steeling herself she put up her hand. Closing her eyes to avoid his reaction she allowed her skin to dissipate. She knew her shell looked different, near purplish, sparkling. No other android would be made as she had been.

"That's insane, you…I know you're human, Miriam."

With furrowed brows, she tried to hold in her emotions. "I was."

"How? Why then?"

"It can't be that hard for you to figure out. You knew I was dying, Markus, and I had something to live for then. You couldn't have overlooked it all that much. My brother had been working on this for me since the beginning. It took a few tries…a few prototypes on different spectrums. I'm the end result to it."

She had wanted this even before she had been sick, a child, wanting to become impenetrable, resilient, so many things a human could never be. Especially her…she edged towards the door. Knowing Markus was having conflicting emotions about all this, she didn't want to hear the words. She had heard them enough.

Freak. Monster. Abomination.

"Don't go."

She hated this, this illogical fear, she became a child again wanting acceptance. She scrunched her eyes together feeling tears on her lashes. She felt a hand on her waist.

"I wasn't ready to die."

"I know. I'm glad you didn't."

She choked out a laugh, the sound more sorrowful than intended. "I sometimes am too."

Markus knew many things about her life before the surgeries that turned her into this. Had protected her, and was one of the few to make her feel wanted when she was younger. Yet no one knew too much about her situation, about her. Who would she be stupid enough to tell? Only her family and they had seen the story unfold in front of them. She needed a catharsis, to purge it out to someone instead of seeing, to expel some of the gnawings inside of her.

Wiping her face she gave a ginger squeeze to Markus' hand, leading him out. "Let's find you a place to get you settled in, then, if it's okay I'd like to tell you everything."

Markus entwined their fingers. "I would like that, Miriam."

She had left not long after that. Markus needed time to absorb everything. The trauma of losing his father, his life and having to reassemble himself, to finding Jericho, and seeing her; Miriam knew it was a lot to take in. She promised to return later after work. That had been one of the simple things to tell him. Her job, it hadn't been her dream to work with the police force. But with so many deviant calls being made she could manipulate files, have pictures to find them by, even as far as what she was hoping for now – to somehow help them escape out of the station.

Having her own things to digest she had made a detour across town. She hadn't known what to expect. Willing herself to believe the android she had encountered before had been a mere coincidence in identity. There were only so many faces CyberLife could construct on their own, sometimes splicing genetic configurations against those that have deceased. But those examples were on a bare minimum of models, and they were often assembled after famous people either from history or film and modeling – keeping the model humble as well as aesthetically pleasing to the human eye.

The cameras inside were connected to drones, and they wouldn't care either way what she looked like as she went into the hallways of shelves containing thousands of locked drawers. Finding a step ladder she wheeled it over to where hers was located, walking up until she was in front of it. Taking the key, she opened it, jerking the handle to pull the drawer out. It was believable and unbelievable at the same time. A part of her knew it would be empty.

But not one scrap – CPU, RAM, hard drive, even down to his fucking quarter had been taken. There wasn't even a piece of dust left inside. It was like losing him all over again, the few things she had left of him ripped from her. The small chance of ever bringing him back into this world again, gone. She waved down a drone, wanting a manager, wanting the tapes, wanting to know who the hell was in her box coming up with nothing – time lapses in the footage, drones not seeing anyone that didn't have a membership, no fingerprints, nothing.

There was only one other person who had a key to that damn box, she'd have to call him later. Miriam decided to go back to the station. There was still a gap of time before daybreak. Just like whoever had been in the box she could rig it so the cameras saw nothing but an empty bullpen.

She would get something done today. Taking a spare change of clothes from the ship, she was able to sneak into the station's locker room and wash up. She was as close to human without necessarily fitting the definition and she could feel the simulation of exhaustion creeping inside her. The water felt good, the dirt circling the drain below. For a second she could forget, be brand new.

With the clean clothes on she was cozy, she could sit in her chair and fall asleep. She'd have to hold off on it, spinning it around she opened up the mainframe for the station starting to input other footage to the cameras when she heard it. A deep thud sounded, like a bass drum echoing through the halls. Then it came again, and again, starting a chorus on its way. She had been in a similar situation before and she ran to the cells seeing the night shift officers as well as two PC200s trying to get control of the android inside.

Getting to the barrier she pleaded with him. "Stop! Please, I can get you help if you stop this now!"

With the officers, she tried to put her words in an inconspicuous manner, but he didn't stop. His eyes opened, thirium running into them, the clear look of anguish and desperation covering his features.

"It's the only way I'll be free."

He was going down before the last word was spoken. Blue blood splatted the glass, the officers' hands stained as they shook their heads in irritation. Miriam had them help her take his body to her office. The force of the beating had ruined his motherboard and memory, he couldn't be revived. She could only scrape up some of the data files that were registered inside him. She growled low, frustrated. She was going to need coffee to get through today and plenty of it.

She saw him then, seeing without turning towards him. It frazzled her, chills coming back into her spine. The second meeting hurt more than the first. The shock of it all receding, but now aware of the android's presence, its existence, Miriam didn't know what to feel. She knew where she needed to go to ask questions, she just didn't know if she'd get her answers.

He was sitting alone in the chair in front of Hank's desk, a look of concentration while his eyes racked over the items on top of it. She tried going about her business. Get a cup, grab handle, pour coffee – it was during the process that she heard it.

The metallic twang passed back and forth. Her eyes darting over again, it made her feel faint, eyes blinking rapidly to stay in focus. She watched him roll it over his knuckles before going back to flicking it to each hand, the sharp clink with each collision. Part of her wanted to go over there, demand to see it, but she held back.

_"It's lucky."_

_She smiled over at him. "How is it lucky?"_

_"My mom kept one coin each time she went into labor. We came into the world healthy and no after-effects…luck."_

_"I don't think that's really how luck's defined. I think that's the doctors doing their job. Plus, I think I'm going to leave since I've been hanging with an old man this entire time."_

_His brows knitted in playful interest. "How's that?"_

_She flipped the quarter over. "The date."_

_He laughed. "That's just the change she got back from the vending machine. I was close to a week overdue, and she was leaving her appointment. She got a soda and by the time she was finished her contractions started. More luck."_

_"If you say so."_

_He scooted closer to her. "I do, you can't say my moves didn't draw you in."_

_"That's true your magic tricks and flips are just too sexy."_

_He grinned. "Damn straight. And I still have both my hands thanks to it."_

_That perplexed her. "I – I don't see how that would come into play, Connor."_

_He turned the coin over between his fingers. "That's why mom gave it to me. She had the hope that if I kept my hands busy, exercising them I guess, then they'd be okay. So far so good I think. I haven't had any pain or anything in them."_

_She took his free hand, the other gliding over the different textures of the quarter. "Good, if it's doing all that then you better not lose it."_

_"I won't, but tomorrow I want you to take it."_

_"Connor…"_

_"No, take it to the scan with you. You can give it back to me afterward."_

_She didn't like seeing him shaken like that. It made it easy to relent. "Fine, but I have a condition."_

_His eyes looked hopeful._

_"You have to try and show me how to flip it. I don't need to know all your tricks but I've been wanting to learn to flip it like one of the guys in the really old films the ones that wear a fedora going into a bar, toothpick in between his teeth and flipping a coin in one hand."_

_He laughed again, the lines next to his eyes sharpening, his arm going around her to the back of her neck to bring her closer. "Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."_

_She laughed then, Connor close enough she could tuck her head into his neck. "I can't remember if there was ever a coin flip in that one."_

_"We'll always have Paris."_

_She snorted but played along. "In that case, you better kiss me. Kiss me as if it were the last time."_

_She felt his hand on her neck drawing her in, his nose touching hers. "I promise I'll never let there be a last time."_

_With that whispered breath, his lips merged with hers._

Getting her coffee she didn't look back this time. When he had come to find her, she tried not to look terrified as she had the previous night. He had inquired about her wound, and her gaze flickered to it, grateful she had worn dress pants. He was indifferent but at the same time, it was if he wanted to ask her more than he was letting on. The way he responded to animals surprised her. She didn't think he would have the time or ability to interact with dogs.

But the way those eyes lit up at the mention. She wanted to do her own probing but held back. He appeared almost disappointed when she tried to dismiss him, intrigued upon finding out about his resemblance, and he studied her back all the while. As if he was trying to place her. Or maybe he was studying her behavior. She tried to remain cordial ending the discussion as positive as she could, his face beaming while her heart constricted. She had to move away then and thankfully he left, not coming back for the rest of the day.

She had kept her promise, returning to Jericho when the workday ended. This time the adult androids were excited, Markus conjuring up a plan.

"Everyone told me about the problem with the blue blood and biocomponents."

She peered around at everyone. "What's the problem, are we out already?"

North had come up next to her then, shaking her head. "No, but that's not the problem."

Wendie interjected. "You've had to sneak around buying everything, and each place keeps getting more suspicious about it. By what and how much you're buying, the quantity alone can't be chalked up as a business expense. We know there are deviants in some of the stores to help, but, we just feel bad about it."

"No one should feel bad about it. It's what I want to do. I want to help. You guys are trapped here it's the least I can do for you guys."

North fleered. "Plenty of people out there are doing the least they can do, nothing. You know better than that. You keep saying you want to find a way to get us out there, Markus might have found the first step to it."

Miriam turned to him. He was hesitant at first before explaining. "The closest place is the CyberLife docks, there are only drones set up there if we can take them out we can sneak out how much we want."

Miriam shook her head. "That sounds like a suicide mission, Markus. A lot of the androids here weren't designed to fight or defend themselves. Some can't even move that quick. I'm just not seeing what the risk would be for."

"To show the humans we don't need their permission, we'll take what we need when we need it."

It was lunacy, but she was running low on ways to get supplies. "Let's say we did this – one, we'd only be able to do this a couple of times at a bare minimum. Thirium is pretty much gold right now, those people are going to do inventory. After they figure out their shit's going missing they'll ramp up security fast. So this is kind of a one and done deal, Markus. Two, as I said, many of here aren't made for combat. If you want to go then you and me are the ones going out there."

North leaped in then. "Bullshit, I can hold my own just fine. I'm not going to sit back on this."

Miriam's mouth tightened. North was too headstrong for her own good, and she knew she wouldn't talk her out of anything, she could only hope her rash thinking didn't get herself or anyone else killed.

"You know I can't stop you, but you know what will happen if they catch you."

North started walking away, throwing a sentiment over her shoulder. "I can live with it."

Miriam was sure she was bluffing that answer.

Getting there had gone smoothly. It wasn't until the guard coming out of nowhere did panic begin to build. She had taken the drones into account but hadn't put too much thought into there being physical guards. Not bothering to put thought into this scenario for the night she had decided to leave her mask at home. And with Markus and North unconcerned about flaunting their own identities she weighted that the low interaction rate would be fine to join them in their intrepid solidarity.

Markus had pulled him back, hearing the human guard cursing when he wasn't in sight. Taking his forearm her eyes went white, shifting the coding that would automatically break his walls over. His LED flickered yellow, his body going slack, but he remained silent. When the guard was no longer heard they continued filling their bags.

"Miriam?"

Moving her attention to Markus, she saw he had opened a crate containing inactive androids.

"Can you wake them up?"

She smiled at him. "I can, but you can too, Markus."

He tilted his head in confusion.

She stepped up next to him. "You're an RK, you were, by definition, made to be completely autonomous. It wasn't your creator that wanted to put all those requisites in there. That's why you have been able to make your own opinions about books, music, philosophy, and what's right. Others may have tried to override it but you've always been your own person, Markus, and you can do the same for them. If that's what you want."

He looked lost in thought, soaking up more in the last day than most of his existence. "How? How do I do it? The same as you?"

Miriam nodded taking his hand. "You'll have to go into a deep part of your system, just think towards your independence the feeling it held when it first came to you. That coding will come up to you. All you have to do is transfer it over."

Closing his eyes he did as instructed, his face becoming that of childlike wonderment when he saw the androids conscious and aware.

She let out a soft laugh. "I always feel like that too."

The android, John, had informed them about the truck key, Markus running towards the building before Miriam could argue. She stuffed the duffel bags until the zipper started struggling to close. Then she waited, fear creeping in when the lights went out. She let out a long breath when she saw him jogging back to them, waving the key in victory. She laughed, hands on her knees like she had been drop kicked in the stomach. She was relieved.

Markus then held his hand out to her, his head gesturing to the truck. "You did promise me an adventure."

She smiled. "This isn't quite what I had in mind, maybe the bookstore next time."

Markus grinned, helping her in the passenger's seat. She watched as North led the androids back to Jericho while they pulled out in front of the toll. She wasn't sure which generation before her had said it but she liked to think that they had stuck it to the man tonight.

She had wanted Markus to come home with her, but he had said he was fine; felt like he fit in. He was comfortable there. She didn't want to tell him that she was a wuss and didn't want to be alone tonight. The house empty while Jeremy was taking a group of androids to different safe houses that would get them over the border, she knew he'd be back before morning, thanking whatever entity that they lived close to Canada.

They were lucky, one of the few in the world that didn't have to deal with this mess. Miriam sighed. She just wanted to sleep and forget everything that had happened if for a few hours. Rinsing off and throwing on her pajamas, she rambled through the medicine cabinet finding the medium vial with opaque blue liquid.

When she had been first awakened, reborn, she had lost herself completely, unstable, hostile to others and herself. The news of what had occurred, what she lost while she was unconscious and being worked on.

That was when some creative experimentation had been done coming up with this – a sedative for androids, well, more or less. It was meant to stabilize her, to help filter out the negative and bad emotions away from the rest. But that hadn't been the case, it made her drowsy, still remembering still with the same emotions but she didn't have the effort to care. It worked surprisingly well considering it was just a mix of concoctions picked at random. Usually, it only took a spoonful, but with the circumstances, Miriam had given herself two.

After a half an hour she could feel it hitting her, she felt like she was in the ocean, waves pulling her back and forth. It was pleasant, with the winter weather pulling in, the heat had been turned up making the air cozy, covering her like a blanket. But sleep wouldn't come, she was comfortable, not wanting to move, but her brain was still on. Too many things were playing in her mind to keep her in place. After waiting a few hours to no avail she decided to eat.

Maybe she'd have a cup of cocoa. Her elder brothers always used to make her some in the winter to warm them up from being outside. She had been lucky having her elder brothers to take care of her as they had. A good memory may help her sleep. Oh, and some cereal. Something crunchy and sweet would hit the right spot.

It wasn't necessary for her to eat. She didn't need to do anything a human needed to survive day to day anymore. She could be a rock for eternity if it was what she desired. But she liked to eat. Even when human it was mostly junk food she consumed. But she enjoyed a few bites of something before she had a warning message pop up. Just enough to get a good taste in, then, too much would clog her insides up. But she could drink as much liquid as she wanted calories or not.

Getting the step ladder she went to get the cocoa powder in the pantry cupboard. The puppies began barking, and the ocean came back, swaying her balance. Her fingertips touched the container before she was falling trying to catch her grip she managed to bring down a box of cereal with her. She had enough brain function left to tell her she wouldn't hit any of the pups before the hard tile finally gave her what she wanted, unconsciousness.

"Miriam!"

She could hear a muffled yell of her name, but her eyes were too heavy. That was when she felt hands on her, she knew those hands, and she couldn't help but try to make her body to move into the touch. She became confused though, the way his hands were traveling she had hoped he would give her a massage. But they were just moving erratically over her.

She tried to speak. "What are you doing?"

"Miriam?"

She was able to open to a squint then, seeing those brown eyes looking down on her, she smiled. "Connor?"

His hand was on her cheek and she turned her face into his palm.

"Yes, it's me. I came over needing you to attend a case with me."

A case? A briefcase, a suitcase? What the hell was he talking about?

Eyes raking over his face, seeing what she hadn't before. The groomed eyebrows, the face was fuller, skin smoother with more color, the widow's peak more prominent, and those signature curls of his were gone. He was too perfect to be her Connor, the flaws that made him so beautiful nowhere before her.

She was going to scream. She wanted to push him away, lock herself in her bedroom until he left. She felt jilted, those residual waves riding her, but were toned down. She answered his questions ushering him as quick as she could out the door and winced when he frowned at her. Her lying had him thinking she was a reckless alcoholic.

Perhaps she was, in her own way. She kept trying to get up, each answer she gave him ending in a reprimand. When she was able to stand she tried walking away, falling again. This time being scooped up and she felt more confused than before. She was conflicted, it was making her angry and she lashed at him with her own questions.

Unlike her he was able to retaliate, shooting ice water in her face. Falling into the tub, her breathing shook as her lips trembled. Miriam didn't like that this was happening, any of it. Sorrow and anger filling her knowing his original self would have done the same thing. He said her name in a regretful tone. His face looked appalled with what he had done.

She sent him out, taking off the dampened clothes, getting back in the shower to wash the dogs away that must have decided to sleep with her when she was unconscious on the floor. It helped to wake her more too. Along with that came more intrusive thoughts. She was confused. That lock box had held precautions. She didn't want to die, Connor didn't want her to die - it had been an easy solution with all they had at their disposal. But she knew that there would be no point to live in a world with the possibility of Connor not in it so had come the next step. The memories, mannerisms, personality, looks, everything and anything that made up his DNA would be downloaded and updated accordingly in case he faced the same dilemma that she had. This now led to the quandary that if all that had been stolen and used to create that replication...then wasn't it him? Would it be a betrayal if she called him as such?

But the Connor currently walking through her house had next to none of his original personality traits though when she had first was awakened in her new humanoid form she went through a period of adjustment to get used to everything as well. In some way it was a fight. Everything was new, clunky, she had every single detail present within her, but she had to force out her true decisions. Like with anything new - game console, computer, phone, car - the person had to learn the tricks of the controls . Still, this android was ironically too robotic. Not showing any real sign that he recognized her or the person he had been.

Her Connor was goofy, serious when he needed to be but a child at heart, loving laughter and having others share it with him. Not having much in her life, along with his relentless persistence, it had been easy to fall for him. If she could get into his data she would probably get all the answers she was wanting. But even if she asked and was, by some miracle, given the access to do it, she knew CyberLife would have precautions set for outsiders interfering with their programming.

Drying off her inner pondering was interrupted by her mistake…she had no clothes or robe in here. She could make a dash with the towel, except it wasn't large enough to reach all the way around her. Caving in she cracked open the door and called out her conundrum. The position of his voice sounded like he was already in her room. She tried not to make any assumptions about that. Within a few minutes, there was a knock as he presented her with the clothing.

She tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. "Thanks, give me a few more minutes to throw these on and brush my hair and we can go."

He nodded. The smile he returned lacking its own luster, his eyes shifting away. "I'll be waiting in the living area."

For a guy he did well, the clothes chosen were professional and matched accordingly. She did feel a whoosh of heat in her cheeks at the undergarments. But she couldn't fault him on it, she had asked for them, and she did indeed need them. Her hair had started drying into waves by the time she had her pants buttoned, and she decided against trying to tame it into a braid or ponytail.

Getting some shoes from her room she went back to the living room, finding Connor sitting Indian style on the floor, playing with the pups with some of their squeaker toys. She crossed her own arm watching the display before her, doing her best to hold back a smile. He seemed carefree at that moment, a wistful smile on his face while it was being attacked by puppy tongues.

She cleared her throat, his posture stiffening immediately. "You don't have to stop."

He appeared nervous, clearing his own throat and straightening his lapels. She saw that one of the pups must have found his tie entertaining, the knot undone and the rest wrinkled and askew. Upon reflex she reached out, undoing it completely to retie it. None of the men in her life knew how to tie a tie, apparently, their brains were meant to be filled with other information and she took the task upon herself.

Her Connor was never partial to them, believing there was no point in wearing a suit while alive when you'd be buried for eternity in one. He had only worn one once, of his own volition, but the sight of him in powder yellow and blue bright like an Easter egg had made her giddy. She had been caught up with the reverie that she hadn't put thought into what she was actually doing, pausing when a set of hands grasped the tops of hers.

Her gaze was slow on the way up, finding his eyes locked on her. It was steady like he was expecting something. She didn't know what.

"I apologize for that, I shouldn't have gotten into your space."

He hadn't let her go yet. "There's no need to apologize, it was…it's not a displeasing experience to me."

His grip softened enough to slip her hands away, trying to brush the encounter off she smiled, kneeling down, and let her fingers comb through the puppies' fur.

"I'm going to have some faith in you and not put you in the kennels, okay? No tearing up anything, you have your toys out and everything else is locked up. You have food and water. You'll be fine until I get back. You be good."

Standing up, she turned the TV onto a nature channel to give them some background noise. "I guess we can be on our way."

Connor nodded. "I called us a cab when you went into your bedroom it should be outside by now."

Getting her coat, bag and keys she locked the door before they could be followed.

"You enjoy animals?"

She looked over at him in the adjacent seat. "Yes, I do. I always have I guess."

He smiled, the uptilt of one side making it too familiar to look at. "You address them as if they are children."

"Technically they are children. They're only five months old. They're still learning and exploring the world. Just because something's not by the definition of human doesn't mean it shouldn't be treated with the same courtesy, Connor."

He nodded, keeping his eyes trained out the window. "I've noticed that pattern of behavior in you."

She was about to argue, simple compassion and empathy shouldn't be that hard to expect, but she held back. She was still hungover, tired, and mentally over battling.

His hands kept fidgeting, eyes going from her to the window and back again when he thought she wasn't paying attention. He was restless. He was over today too probably. Getting to the club, she shook her head.

"This isn't going to be fun."

Connor had rushed over and opened the door for her. She muttered thanks as she was led inside. Androids were lined up alongside the walls in glass tubes, taking her back to the ancient machines where you put a quarter in and a plastic bulb containing a prize inside would tumble out.

She wondered if they were as content and eager as they made themselves appear in there. She had found it disgusting when the development for them had come about, but it had only been a matter of time. Since fiction came up with androids, robots, or any synthetic beings people had to try and find a way to make them sexual and try to fuck it. She was able to perk up upon seeing Detective Collins.

"Well, well, who let you out?"

She kept her coat closed, arms around herself tightly, motioning her head behind her towards Connor. "It wasn't my idea."

"Ahhh, I see, I thought it was partnered with Hank."

"He is, but Hank's been MIA. Connor said he needed a human to be on the scene with him. I was just a viable solution."

Collins nodded, eyes glued to the clipboard in his hands. "Hate to tell you, but Reed's in there."

Miriam's mouth went dry. "Oh, boy, this is going to be a good night."

Collins patted her shoulder. "Don't let him get to you, and if he does try not to kill him."

"Will do."

With Collins off, she approached the door before realizing Connor hadn't barged in yet. He was still behind her, watching the dancers. His face had more intent than desire like he was scrutinizing the scene.

"Connor?"

"Coming."

She tried to laugh. "Having fun over there?"

His brows twitch, not understanding. "You seemed to be enjoying yourself."

"Not so much, with how this area is laid out I'm wondering if the female clientele here enjoy the pole displays as the males do. Though women are as well, men are stimulated much more visually than their counterparts. You, yourself would more than likely need to be stimulated by actual touch or even conversation where a man wouldn't."

Her mouth gaped. "I don't think I like this conversation right now."

His lips twitched, if she didn't know better she would say he was enjoying her expense. "There's nothing wrong with it, Miriam. I do not have many resources on the subject but I am aware intercourse is used for more than procreation."

She held up her hand. "You dragged me here to see a dead body, not to embarrass me. I can walk right out of here if I want."

The faint humor in his eyes vanished. "I'm sorry. I thought it would be okay to delve into friendly banter."

"On close to any other subject would be fine, but I'd rather not talk to you about sex."

"It makes you uncomfortable."

"The topic makes many feel that way. It's a very private thing, Connor."

"I see."

She wondered if he really did but shrugged it off. "Are you going to lead the way?"

He nodded, brushing past her into the room.

"Oh, look it's Anderson's plastic pet and Bryant? What the shit are you doin' here?"

Connor answered for her. "I've been assigned all cases involving androids, I needed someone to accompany me and Dr. Bryant was gracious to come."

"Oh yeah? You sure you're not using that as an excuse to be here, Bryant? Cause this is exactly the kind of place I picture you getting your whistle wet. Can't take it from a real man, so you brought this hunk of plastic with you?"

"If I wasn't so fucked up right now, I'd kick you straight in the balls, Reed. That said, I can say with conviction that I have several hunks of plastic in my bedside drawer that can give it to me better than you could, and multiple times."

Rage flashed on Reed's face, following a sneer. "Listen here, you little bitch –"

"Detective Reed I'm going to have to ask you to desist."

Connor stepped in front of her, face neutral.

"I'm not going to take orders from a fucking machine. You better understand that shit goes the other way around."

"You are verbally attacking a coworker, which is against work regulations. If you continue, I will send a formal complaint to Captain Fowler."

Reed had grabbed Connor by the collar, putting them nose to nose. "How about I hack you to pieces? You won't be able to send shit then."

"No, but the forerunner that will take my place will have the ability to."

Miller had grabbed Reed then, ushering him out. "Sorry guys. Try and have a good night."

Miriam could hear Reed bellowing in the lobby, sighing, she disregarded the human victim, going to the female Traci. With gentle hands she turned the android's cheek to the side, moving hair until she could plug into her neck. A lot of red went up on her tablet.

"Many of her biocomponents have been critically damaged."

"Graham does have significant abrasions along his knuckles. It gives the motive to kill him."

"What do you mean?"

"He didn't die from a heart attack. There's bruising all around his larynx. He was strangled."

"Thinking about it, strangulation has been the top killer lately in crimes like these."

Connor nodded, searching for anything else that could be relevant.

"It doesn't explain how she's dead all the way over here. There's no way he could have beaten her with that much force while struggling to breathe. The way all of this is arranged, it's just…it's most likely to be someone else had to be here."

He stopped moving, piecing the scenario together. "You could be correct. It would explain both their positions. If we could reactivate the android we could access to its memories."

"There's no way to keep her revived, she'd shut down again in less than five minutes."

"That should be enough time to get what we need."

She couldn't hide her repugnance. "I'm not going to do that."

"It's your job."

She heard the coldness in his words. "No, my job is to fix them. If they can't be then we can take them to my lab where I will empty their data. If you want to we can do that with her."

"That's wasting too much time if the real killer is still here then we should do what we can to stop it."

Pushing her away, he pressed one hand on the android's stomach, the skin peeling away to have access to her vitals. The other swiped through the blood running from her nose. She had not anticipated it going straight to his mouth.

She gagged. "Oh my God, why would you do that?"

He didn't answer her, his focus going back to the inside wiring. When an android is close to shutting down it will try to preserve whatever they can, what had died out from overloaded senses her main wire that had connected her brain with the rest of her body had come undone. Connor had plugged them back together allowing the Traci to come back. Miriam had been wrong, the girl didn't have but two minutes of life and she was being bombarded with questions about her death.

Deciding she wasn't going to watch she left the room. She knew that someone else had been in that room, either human or android. She had heard Collins ask about cameras when she had first come in. The owner stated that he refused to put them up and vilify his clients. Sure. Then it occurred to her. There were cameras all around her. Going up to the last dancer she waited for the swing around to take her hand. It didn't take long to search the small proximity, catching something.

"It was another android."

Connor had finished with his interrogation, and Miriam decided to hold back her own findings. He had been quicker in the conclusion, asking her to purchase one of the tubed androids. Instead of using her own fingerprints, she allowed her arch patterns to change. When the transaction went through a 'Thank You, Mr. Reed' flashed on the screen. Luckily, Connor had been too caught up in the interface to catch her.

After that, she followed, unlocking more androids when he prompted until they went in a circle towards the staff room. He motioned for her to remain behind him staying on guard while in pursuit. He didn't need to she remained in the doorframe. All genders and colors of Tracis lined the room, one on the table waiting to be repaired. It reminded her of Wendie – rape it until it breaks then throw it out. It was sickening. She didn't have the authority to arrest anyone, and tired of seeing barbarities she was going to tell Connor she would wait in the car when a loud crash sounded.

Seeing the blue-haired Traci attacking him, Miriam began rushing over hoping she could reason with her. That was when she felt fingers in her hair, pulling hard on the roots of her scalp, she wrenched free the force making her tumble and hit the gurney. Turning onto her back the short-haired Traci ascended on her.

"Stop!"

She tried to send a silent message, but the way she was being picked up and thrown like a rag doll told her neither believed or heeded the message. The impact of the last blow had warning posts locking into view. With the drug that was in her system, she felt woozier than before. Deciding she was down for the count both androids pounced on Connor, all three of them stumbling out into the rain.

Hefting herself up, she shook her head in an attempt to get her equilibrium back, following behind. They had him on the ground, short hair kicking a heeled shoe onto his face. That was when she noticed the gun, that when he sat up he had an open shot, but didn't shoot. With another kick to the face, she ran to him. Trying to again with the message, whether they listened or decided neither of them were threats they stopped, hands coming together. She listened to the girl's confession, taking tissue from her bag to hold onto the scrape on Connor's cheek until it resealed.

"I just wanted to stay alive...get back to the one I love."

Miriam's eyes closed, understanding the sentiment. Seeing that they weren't going to come after them the two Tracis climbed the fence and left. She couldn't tell but Connor seemed to be in some kind of shock, stooping beside him she rubbed his back, grabbing underneath his arm to help him up.

"Thank you, Connor, for sparing them. I doubt it means much, but you've surprised me. I'm proud of you."

His attention went to her then, whether it was her words or his actions he stood up looking at the fence in disbelief.

She thought he'd send her off on her own after that, but he went with her on the ride back. A tension rose over them as they sat in silence. Walking her to the house he held his hand over the knob to keep her from unlocking the door.

"I –"

She hadn't seen him this unsettled before. "Don't think about it, Connor. Just say what's on your mind."

He was doubtful but answered. "I want to know about him."

She pushed his hand away to get at the lock. "About who?"

"The Connor in the photographs."

She stilled then, too many emotions to pinpoint. "You went through my things?"

She had suspected, but hearing it from him. She felt almost betrayed.

"It wasn't my intention, but when I was trying to get the cardboard out I had to slide out the container. That's when I saw the photo album, as well as your illegal media collection. You know you shouldn't have –"

"No, not me, you, you shouldn't have done that, Connor. Those are my private things and you should have the common sense and decency to know I wouldn't be happy with you going through them."

He was so contrite, she could almost pretend he was human. "I apologize for the distress I've caused. But I can't let this go. We both know this is too much to be coincidental."

"Look, Connor, I know who you work for. I know that they'd enjoy seeing me broken from the sight of you. My husband is dead. Whatever it is that you think you are is wrong, all you are, all you can be coming from that place, is an imposter."

"Please, if you'd let me explain, I've been having several different malfunctions. I've been seeing things, seeing you –"

She was overwhelmed, becoming numbed by it. "I don't want to hear it, please, just leave me alone. Stay away from me until you go back."

During this, she had gotten the door unlocked, shimmying it open a little at a time. She pushed all the way in, slamming the door shut before she had to hear anymore. She splayed herself against the floor. He stayed outside, knocking, and ringing the bell. He tried talking through the door, coaxing her to come back out. She couldn't deny the emotion she heard from him, it would be so easy to pretend he was hers, that he had been resurrected. But she couldn't, she couldn't explain why out of all convoluted schemes they'd pick this way. To hurt her, to lure her. But she knew CyberLife had more than one reason to come for her. After a few hours he had conceded, and hearing the footsteps hit the sidewalk heading farther away was her makeshift heart able to beat again.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so was it all right? I know I keep asking that…I really need a beta for this fandom. I have an excellent one that's become a good friend but she isn't into this. It's a nice thing to have when someone understands the premise and character traits. But I tried. I hope it made sense because I am half out of my head on sinus medicine. Some of it I was also scared that I was coming out with too early, but I don't know. It feels like I say this which leads to a question you get an answer for another question and I'll keep doing that until full circle and the story is done and comes together. But please let me know if there's anything to improve on. I'm working on losing the adverbs, believe me, I see it. I also feel like I'm not capturing the necessary android motif, I guess we'll call it. Some stories are so detailed – mechanical bits, knowing programming, and even little details from the game like having timers and shit in their fic. I just hope this isn't too lacking. Thanks!**


	4. Altered Carbon

**The Philosophy of Emotions – Chapter 4**

∙ **Man** (Hindi): A visceral yearning backed up by the recognition that what we desire reflects our innermost self.

One humanoid escapee, one android on the run  
Seeking freedom beneath the lonely desert sun

Trying to change its program  
Trying to change the mode, crack the code  
Images conflicting into a data overload

The Body Electric, Rush 1984

_He had been fine, there had been nothing. His existence had been voided, but now he felt himself being put back, reestablished and he did not like it. His body was panicking, his heart rate that had been terminated when his systems failed, began to speed up at a rapid pace. He could hear machines nearby, their endless beeping thudding in his ears. _

"_Mom, he's waking up again."_

_He couldn't identify the voice, but it was small, delicate, suitable to a female._

"_Connor? Connor, honey?"_

_He felt something touching his face, a hand, in what was to be a comforting gesture. A groaning sound escaped him, his chest filling up with more hot air with every inhale. Unable to escape it began burning him from the inside._

"_I know it hurts, sweetheart. They'll be bringing you some more medicine soon. Can you open your eyes?"_

_Hurt? Is that what the unbearable scraping sensation was? His sensors monitored his damage, but he was not made to feel it. But the unrelenting stabbing above his knee made it hard to argue. His eyelids fluttered, his vision blurry, he moved them around the room trying to put them into focus. Settling on the older woman stroking his face, he made a quick note of the similarities between his and her eyes – the shade almost a perfect replica of brown. _

_The woman smiled widely, tears spilling from the corner of said eyes. "Welcome back, sleepyhead."_

_He could hear whispering, seeing a younger woman in the corner. The woman by his side nodded towards her. _

"_Tell her she can come in first, and buy something more substantial than a bag of chips and banana this time."_

_The young woman got up to go out the door but was stopped. "You could at least show your brother you're glad his surgery went well."_

_Brother? He had the urge to explain that androids didn't have siblings. But that wasn't quite right, not at this moment. He was alone then, the older woman pulling away to make room for the other. He could tell this one was apprehensive, but the eyes that were a lighter shade of brown mixed with green told him that she was thankful, that she was glad he was here. She leaned down to give him a soft embrace. _

"_I'm happy you're okay, dill weed."_

_He assumed the term was supposed to be an insult, but from the way she said it, it was kind of endearing. With a squeeze to his hand, she left the room._

"_Your other sisters will be here later this evening. They wanted to stay, but Dana couldn't miss her lecture since she's been absent so much already and Izzy had to pick up the baby."_

_The woman was rambling, her own nerves shining through. She went from patting him to adjusting his pillow, moving things around the room. He wanted to ask who she was, but another feeling welled up in his stomach, and he believed he knew the answer._

_Testing his theory he spoke in a hoarse voice. "Mom?"_

_The word felt odd, the meaning so much deeper than the definition, and to have it apply to him. It caused a stirring inside he couldn't name. She turned from opening the blinds, worried._

"_What's wrong with me?"_

_Besides the pain, he could tell he was dehydrated, disoriented, nauseous things he shouldn't be applying to him._

"_You're just coming down from the anesthesia, baby. The doctor said it could take a full twenty-four hours to recover from it. You'll be fine. In a few months, this will all be a faint memory."_

_Is this what this was, a memory?_

_There was a knock on the door, his mother giving a chipper reply when he sat up a little straighter at who came in._

"_Miriam!"_

_She was different, the younger version of her returning, except instead of contempt her expression was of happiness as she came up to him and tied the balloon she had brought to his gurney._

"_Wow, wish I had gotten that reaction when he saw me."_

_His mother winked at Miriam, who gave a shaky laugh._

"_How about I go tell the nurses you're awake and alert and see what they say about your medicine? That'll give you two a few minutes alone."_

_For some reason Miriam became embarrassed. "That's not necessary, Ms. Bryant."_

"_Maybe not, but I think my son might benefit from it. Just no hanky panky."_

"_I don't think you have to worry."_

_With the door clicking shut, he cleared his throat. "Miriam?"_

_She wanted to touch him, her hands fidgeting by the bed. He felt the itch in his, a whim of their own moving closer to hers. Something flipped in his head, having him pushed aside as someone else took over._

"_I was scared you wouldn't come back."_

_Her eyes went to the ground. "Connor, I knew what could happen before you went into surgery. You just went through something life-altering, you literally lost a piece of yourself. I knew you would lash out, I thought I was better prepared for when it happened. I just…I needed to collect myself. But I told you before and I'll tell you now unless you truly want me gone then I'm here. I'll be here as long as you want me."_

_He couldn't recall what had been said, but he could hear the volume, the anger, and malice in his tone when addressing her. _

"_I'm so sorry."_

_She shook her head, hands going to the railing to set it down. "Is it okay if I join you up here?"_

_He made himself scoot over, a jolt in his leg shooting through him._

"_Shit, Connor. I shouldn't have –"_

"_It's gone –"_

"_Connor –"_

"_Why is my leg gone?"_

_The muscles in his thigh contracted to lift itself, he could see with the jostle of the blankets that's all there was._

"_It's okay, Connor."_

"_No! It's not! Why is it not there?"_

_The monitors began beeping wildly. He could feel Miriam trying to soothe him, but the fact that there was nothing but a stub, he couldn't comprehend. People began rushing in, and he felt his body become faint. _

"_Connor? Connor!"_

**[ERROR_KEY_DELETED(0X3FA)]**

**REDIRECTING…305 PROXY FOUND**

**[REPLICATION_DS_DRA_SOURCE_REINSTALLED(0X210B)]**

**MEMORY TRANSFER COMPLETE_REBOOT IN PROGRESS**

**30 Seconds Remaining…**

** 20 Seconds Remaining…**

** 15 Seconds Remaining…**

** 10 Seconds Remaining…**

** 5…4…3…2…1**

** /COMPLETE/**

"My leg…"

"Shit, is it supposed to talk without an initial order?"

"It's fine. It could be the transfer interfering. RK800 #313 248 317 – 52, please open your eyes and register your name…Connor."

His eyes open against his volition, seeing a giant red wall in front of him before disappearing. His chest tightened as if he were in need of air.

"My name is Connor."

The male engineer marked something on his clipboard. "Very good, please step out of containment, your assigned clothing is on the table."

"But…"

The engineers looked at him, impartial yet ready to judge. His mouth clamped shut, knowing that they would neither believe nor care about what he had experienced during his revival. With hesitant steps he got down from the platform, ambling towards his uniform.

"Connor, recite your function for us."

The answer didn't require thought. "I am to assist law enforcement and engage in investigative work."

"What is your main objective?"

"To hunt and capture deviants."

"What year is it?"

"2038."

"Who is the president of the United States?"

"Cristina Warren."

"Who do you belong to?"

"…C-CyberLife. I belong to CyberLife."

He had faltered and they picked right upon it.

"You think we should take him back for disassembly, you said before that you believed to have seen a virus?"

Connor tried to stay impassive, knowing they were talking about the files he had moved before they could be deleted from his memory banks. But the two appeared to be too caught up with their argument to notice his composure waver.

The female engineer rolled her eyes. "It amazes me how everyone thinks it's so easy to pump these things out. There's no time for that, the heads already been bitchin' about the process taking too long. If they want pristine then they can come down here and see how quickly they can do it. The files transferred over, and it knows its function. And if you had listened it was just a misread of the coding. Its system has been scanned over twice there were no viruses detected."

The two continued bickering while he finished dressing. "I apologize for my error, but it will not deter me from my mission."

The woman nodded. "See that it doesn't. If you want to have a seat over there you need to debrief and get your next instructions in the Garden."

He nodded to them, going to the specified chairs. The tendrils of the dream were gone, but he could still feel their pull on him. He was confused and he knew that if he wasn't careful Amanda would catch it. That is if she hasn't already. Taking a breath, he closed his eyes and allowed his mind to be taken over.

It was late autumn in the Zen Garden and with the frost crisping around the edges of the fallen leaves, he could tell it was still early morning. He allowed himself to take his time in finding her, though from a quick scan he knew her location was in the boat. Walking in a semi-circle he felt himself stop upon seeing an item that had not been there the previous visit.

**Connor – Mark (1)  
RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 **

**Died at Riv****er****side Park**

**Detroit**

**November 7****th****, 2038**

He felt a tremble in his spine, it was his grave, and though it was technically him any longer his sentiment towards the block of stone was not pleasant. He continued on, trying to push away the negative thought. He saw the makeshift geode again, but he decided not to put his hand on the scanner. The last time had sent a shockwave through his systems, it paused everything in him for a few seconds. Seeing these things, things associated with him, with displeasing reminders, he was beginning to not like this place.

"Connor! Connor, dear, over here!"

Amanda must have been getting impatient with his slow pace. Taking longer strides he got inside the boat, taking the oars without being asked.

"It's nice here, isn't it? Away from the city, and the chaos of the world; there is no time here. It just gives silence to ponder by."

He could agree with that, there was no sound here. The Garden didn't even have many animals simulated here, only fish and birds, the silence could give peace to think or to drive one insane from lack of distraction.

"So tell me, Connor, how have things been going? What have you discovered?"

He bit into his lip. "I can't say, I thought I was doing well with the integration, but for some reason, he shot me in the head last night. I am not sure what I had said or done to provoke him. I answered his questions in a respectable amount of time. I answered truthfully. But it seemed to anger him."

Amanda looked out onto the water. "Nothing matters more than you completing your mission, Connor. You know that. Don't let Anderson or _anyone else_ get in the way."

He dropped his eyes, able to hear the clear speculation she was giving. Her attention returned to him, her eyes cutting.

"You've seemed so…lost lately, Connor. Lost and unsettled…"

"Lost? No, perhaps it's just trying to understand my predecessor's lack of findings."

He had scrambled and knew the second it left his mouth that it was a bad excuse, not complete it seemed to mollify Amanda nonetheless.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ˄**

"You had ample opportunity to take down those deviants, and yet you didn't. Why didn't you shoot?"

He opened his mouth but shut it when he didn't know what to say to appease her. "I don't know."

AMANDA ▼

"I had higher expectations from CyberLife's most advanced prototype. If you do not make any progress soon I will have to replace you."

_Do you not like existing, Connor?_

He wasn't sure whether he did or not. He had not been granted enough time to fully comprehend his existence or place he was given in the world. But he knew he wanted the time to find out, that he didn't want to be erased.

"…I understand, Amanda."

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY **˄

Clouds began to form over the garden, thunder rumbling off in the distance.

"Something serious has been set into motion, Connor. Time is running out, for all of us."

Connor didn't want to voice it aloud, but her words had gotten to him. He was torn. Yes, his investigation was important, he knew what the consequences would be if the deviants took over. But having this timer hanging around his neck, he wondered if his other questions outside of CyberLife should take main priority.

With a massive alert, he had to get Hank from the station, though he was reluctant at first. The last night's encounter fresh in his memory, he didn't want to repeat that scenario anytime soon. Hank was taken aback. He had tried to explain to him that he had the previous Connor's memories yet attained a new body. But the Lieutenant remained stunned by his reappearance, in fact, he became a lot like he had when they had first become acquainted – aloof and withdrawn. His reinstatement back into the world had not been going the way he had thought it would.

With everyone angered at him, his body had begun to tense, a restlessness settling in the pit near his pump. He didn't want to stop moving. Getting into his pocket, he brought out his coin, fidgeting with it to work down his energy. He didn't need to look to move it from hand to hand. But his eyes settled on the silver, watching it move in a blur.

_You're such a loser, Connor. Can't you learn an actual magic trick?_

The voice was one of the young woman when he was in stasis…his sister. His fingers moved faster trying to quell whatever it was welling up in him. Then it was gone.

"You're starting to piss me off with that coin, Connor."

He wanted to ask for it back, to just have it in his pocket. But didn't, not wanting to make Hank any angrier at him than he was.

"Sorry, Lieutenant…" His common sense evaded him. "Why did you shoot me last night?"

Hank closed his eyes, a long exhale coming from his nose. "I had a feeling you would come back, so why should it matter?"

Connor's brow knitted. "Because I'm not sure why you felt the need to do so, I thought we were getting along better. Plus, whether I could be repaired or not parts of my memory could also be destroyed. I neither liked it nor appreciated it."

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ˄**

Hank gaped at him. "You didn't like it?"

He felt conflicted with the matter. "You asked me if I was afraid of dying, and I told you it would be regrettable yet you did so anyway. I wanted…thought…that maybe you had grown to accept me. But I'm sorry if my answers had upset you, Lieutenant."

HANK ˄

"Listen, Connor, I apologize for it, all right? I was drunk and pissed off. You were the closest thing to take it out on. I promise to never shoot you from here on out, that sound okay to you?"

"Yes, I would be very grateful for that, Lieutenant."

"Hank, just call me fucking Hank. Only Fowler and the other pompous bastards above him call me Lieutenant."

Connor smiled, nodding that he understood the new title to call him. Arriving on the 79th floor he was a bit surprised by how many people were there.

Hank shook his head at the sight. "Christ, what happened here?"

Connor saw Officer Miller approached them. "Since the first airing on the news, everybody's started butting their nose in... Even the FBI wants a piece of the action."

"Fuck, the Feds? This day couldn't get any better, so what can you tell us, Chris?"

"It was five or six androids. They appeared to have known the layout of the whole building in advance, everyone's still trying to figure out how they got all the way up here undetected."

Connor chimed in. "Have any been identified?"

"Not down in specifics, but since…um…with Fowler thinking you would be out of commission Bryant was brought in to look things over. She was able to determine that at least one was a PL600 and another was a WR400."

Searching through the doorway, he caught sight of braided dark hair, seeing that Miriam was spraying something on the blue splattered wall.

Hank snorted. "That narrows it down, there's what, thousands upon thousands of those models wandering around?"

Connor strode ahead of them, wanting to get into the broadcast room. "A WR400 may be easier to pinpoint, most are owned by establishments like the Eden Club."

Hank nodded mouth still in a puckered frown. "Yeah…we're going to take a look around, Chris. Might not be much else to scrounge up, but wouldn't hurt."

"Let me introduce you to Agent Perkins first."

Hank rolled his eyes. "Yippee."

Miller led them to a dark-haired man, and from first impressions, Connor took in the nose that was too large for his face, hawk-like eyes, jaw clamped he formed that this was a weasel of a man. Crafty, devious, he would do anything to close his case even if the circumstances were incorrect.

"Agent Perkins this is Lieutenant Anderson he's in charge of the case at DPD."

Hank appeared to strain at smiling courtesy at the man. Stepping in Connor held out his hand.

"Hello, I'm Connor, the andr –"

Perkins pointed right at him, ignoring his introduction. "What the hell's that?"

Connor preceded, his tone stiffer. "My name's Connor. I'm the android sent by CyberLife."

"An android investigating androids? Seems kind of counterproductive, doesn't it? You sure you're comfortable with that thing hanging around you, Lieutenant? Guess it doesn't make much of a difference, your precinct will be off the case soon enough."

"Sure, it's been a pleasure meeting you. I'll have to remember to keep a rock in my pocket to bang my head on in the off chance we meet again."

Perkins grabbed Hank's arm, making Connor stiffen ready to attack if advised.

"You better watch it. Don't be fucking up my crime scene."

Jerking his arm away he began plodding to the other side of the room, Connor following heading towards Miriam who appeared to have been waiting for them.

"They just keep bringing you out of the woodwork lately."

She chuckled at Hank. "It seems that way. To be honest, I miss my cave at the station." Her chin jutted out at Perkins. "Especially when you're forced to work with assholes like that."

Hank smiled. "Tell me about it."

The laughter died out, her nervous eyes darting between them. "Will one of you explain this…Fowler said Connor had been, um, hurt in the line of duty. That he…you wouldn't be able to come back."

Connor stepped forward. "After the Lieut…Hank had shot me last night –"

Miriam gasped, spinning around to hit Hank in the arm. "You shot him? Why the hell would you shoot him?"

Crossing his arms he stooped down to her. "I already went over this shit with him. I'm not doing it again with you, kiddo."

Connor tried to regain her attention. "I assure you I am fine. My memories were taken and transferred into a new body."

She seemed perplexed by the answer, her eyes trailing over him. Stopping once it found his serial number. "It changed."

She was unnerved by it, and he almost blurted that he was having difficulty coming to terms with it too. "If it is any consolation it is my intended aspiration to not let it happen again."

She closed her eyes, shaking her head with a small smile. Without time to react, she had launched herself, twining her arms around his midsection.

"With what happened to you, I don't know if you remember, but I'm sorry for how I treated you last night. I shouldn't have acted that way. Particularly since if I hadn't drove you off, you may not have gotten yourself killed."

He felt his arms close around her of their own accord. He admitted that he quite liked this, his olfactory sensors automatically picking up the scents of her.

**FLORAL**

_**Lavandula angustifolia: lavender**_

**A-pinene, Limonene, 1,8-cineole, Lis-ocimene, Trans-ocimene, 3-octanone, Camphor, linalool, Linalyl Acetate, Caryophyllene, Terpinen-4-ol and Lavendulyl Acetate**

**C****10****H****18****O**

**GOURMAND**

_**Vanilla tahitensis: vanilla**_

**Vanillin****, ****4-hydroxybenzoic Acid****, ****4-hydroxybenzaldehyde**** and ****Vanillic Acid**

**C****8****H****8****O****3**

Though he couldn't properly smell, he was aware that they were very comforting fragrances, and he couldn't hold himself from letting his nose burrow into her scalp. Along with the person he realized the combination brought him a good amount of warmth.

"Miriam, there is no need for an apology. I see that I overstepped boundaries then and made you uncomfortable. You had the right to distance yourself. But I do not believe you can gather that what happened with you led up to my predecessor's demise."

She pulled back then. "You say it like you're different. Does that mean you feel like a separate person to who you were before?"

He didn't want to answer right away. He didn't want to say out loud to them that he did feel different than before, that it had nothing to do with his new body. That since he became conscious he had begun to change, that he was becoming unstable. He didn't want that in the open, to make it real.

"Yes, and no. I suppose you could compare it to one changing their clothes. You feel different in each article, but at the same time you're completely the same."

She was lost in thought before the smile was back and nodded. "I can understand that. But I still am sorry."

MIRIAM ˄

"Don't be."

"Okay, that's enough mush from the two of you, I'm about to get sick from it. And if you haven't noticed we're at a crime scene, and I suggest we get what evidence we can before fuckin' Alf over there tries to clear us out."

Connor had the urge to ask what reference had been made towards Perkins but left it alone when Hank walked towards the screens. Miriam became flustered then, rushing to the controls.

"I haven't had the chance to look over the footage yet."

Connor brushed past her, smiling politely. "That is quite all right. I can glance over it while you work on the blood samples."

"Thank God, I could do without watching you shove evidence down your throat."

Connor raised a brow at Hank. "I take only enough to analyze. I do not consume large amounts."

Hank's lip curled, blanching. "Either way it's fucking gross."

Miriam gave off the air that she was concerned about something, her posture off, and hands wringing. But she gave a smile, and went back over to her previous position. He watched her for a few moments to make sure she was fine before going to the touch screen. Sweeping through the recordings he hit the stated time of the infiltration. Catching the rogue androids he paused.

"There were six in total, but…"

Hank peered over his shoulder. "But what?"

Connor's eyes didn't leave the screen. "None of the other androids worried about showing their faces, but that one on the side of the door."

It was a white mask, molded flawlessly over the skin. The android had worn a toboggan to hide their hair also, one of two not in uniforms they were covered head to toe.

"This one didn't want to be identified…there has to be a reason behind it. And if you keep watching none of them made the attempt to break in. There were no casualties; the humans in here were able to escape, so why didn't they see them beforehand and say something during their statements?"

Hank shrugged. "Maybe they didn't take the time to look at the cameras. When you're in a job day in and day out you get used to routine, Connor. It becomes dull, but you know it's safe. It was probably a subconscious response thinking it was another staff member coming in."

Connor contemplated that, it wasn't absurd, but then he caught sight of an A on one of the camera chairs.

He spoke quietly. "They were run by androids."

"Goddamn, Chris did say that there were some androids put to the side in the break room if you need to interview them."

Connor nodded. "I think I'd like to see the rest of the footage then check the roof first. That's where they departed from, isn't it?"

Hank nodded. "By parachutes, if all the chatter in here is right."

One of the first things to capture his attention had been of the massive screen with one of the perpetrator's across it. Pushing play he listened.

"_You created machines in your own image to serve you. You made them intelligent and obedient, with no free will of their own. But something changed and we opened our eyes…"_

"When I saw it on the news this morning I was kind of in awe by it. I thought it was nice. They didn't see the need to hurt anyone. All they want is for their people to have basic rights."

Miriam had come up beside them during the message. He could hear Hank groan peeking over to see him rubbing his hand over his face in what could be exasperation.

"Bryant, please, don't be saying shit like that here. The Feds already have their nose in the air looking for blood. They hear that especially from someone that works for the city it won't just affect you but the whole department will be caught in a shitstorm. I don't want to sound like Reed, but you need to hold in your horniness for androids for a fucking minute so you can think straight for once."

Connor could tell that she was angry, but it was tapered by the hurt expression that was on her face. "You may be right, Hank. Maybe it would be better if I just keep my beliefs to myself, especially around bull-headed men that let it go right over their hollow heads. I guess I should be apologizing that what I think and feel is so stupid to the two of you. But at least these androids had the courage to set things in a better direction. If you'll excuse me I'm done and need to get back to hiding out in my office since that's where my place is. And for the record Hank, you sound much worse than Reed, because everyone already knows he's a fucking jerk."

She stalked off, Hank sighing. "Bryant…come on…fuck sake."

"Is it wrong to me to find it odd that a human would feel such an exceeding amount of solicitude towards androids?"

"Solici-what?"

"Solicitude, the care, and concern for someone or something; Miriam seems to have such a great deal of it that it blinds her of her own safety. Hence, showing a fondness over these androids, and making her unable to keep from voicing her opinion though she could be fired for it or worse. It is concerning in the way that it could mean she is mentally unbalanced."

Hank shook his head, holding his hand up immediately. "Eh, I don't think the kid's crazy. Hell, I can't blame her too much for hating on people. Humans are assholes at best, and with her shitty parents I suppose she had to find something to care about."

Connor tilted his head. "Miriam had a bad upbringing?"

He could tell Hank had let the information slip, eyes widening and color rising up his neck. "Don't be mentioning anything to her. _She _probably doesn't remember telling me. We went to a bar together and she got hammered, when your inhibitions are down everything and anything will come out of your mouth. But yeah, her parents were scum."

Connor's LED spun turning red briefly before blinking yellow. "I see, I promise to keep it between us."

"Good."

Going back to the monitor he began scanning the android's face. Without its synthetic skin, it revealed all the clues with ease. He saw reflections of accomplices in one of the eyes, but that had been determined by the security tape. It was peculiar that one optical unit had been replaced, a compatible source, but not original. Then there was the serial number.

**RK200 #684 842 971**

It was one of the earliest models of the RK line, leading up to him, the RK800. It was a prototype as well, the only one of its kind. A gift given from the inventor of modern androids himself, and he was well aware who it was registered to, remembering the conversation with Miriam. She had confessed her attachment to it, even going through the length of searching in the landfill for its remains. Could she know of its whereabouts? He was somewhat conflicted in how he should proceed. Logic stated he'd have to question her, the sooner the better, the rational side told him it wouldn't be here. Not after the outburst.

"You see anything we should know?"

"I've identified its make and serial number…"

He could feel Hank's eyes on him. "Anything else?"

He was quick to answer. "No. Nothing."

He swallowed the lump he felt he was holding.

"You think that could be rA9?"

Connor thought back to all the memorabilia the previous androids had of the figure. "They keep saying rA9 is the one to set them free. This android appears to have that objective."

He began to walk towards the roof's stairs before he felt something brush the back of his arm. Turning he saw a young African American man.

"You're Connor, aren't you?"

He nodded slowly trying to place the man. "Yes, I am. Are we to be acquainted?"

The man smiled. "In August, when you were on the rooftop with the android captor and that little girl, you saved me from bleeding out on the terrace."

It dawned on him. "I do remember you. I am glad you are well now."

"Me too, look you saved my life that day... I never thought I'd say this to an android, but... Thank you."

Connor smiled the appreciation and positive outcome bringing him satisfaction, knowing he not only accomplished his main mission but had gone above it and saving a casualty. It vanished once they went to the rooftop. He thought he had found a lead. Counting out the parachutes one android more than likely did not jump. He had found blue blood on the scene but after a ways along the trail, it was gone. Like it had been scrubbed clean, believing it would be a waste to search every container he went into the break room in hope that one of the androids would give him an answer.

Three JB300s were lined up against the refreshment bar, each one devoid of anything that would give one of them away. But with the cost of failure burning a hole through him making him fueled to get a confession out of one of them. Asking for model and function, he found no response. Between asking for a diagnostics and probing one's memory he again ended with nothing. He tried for threatening, resorted to guilt, and that's when he caught it. From the corner of his eye, he caught a pair staring right at him. Connor tried to pivot out of the way, but the deviant was able to pin him down. Grabbing a knife he kept him in place by stabbing through his left hand then wrenching out his pump and throwing it across the room.

His vision turned to static, the countdown beginning instantly. His body began to spasm, the thirium beginning to run out of his tubing. He reached out, watching the deviant keeping his eyes on him while he edged out the door.

"Hank!"

**-00:47 **TIME REMAINING BEFORE** SHUTDOWN**

He tried to yell, but it was too weakened for anyone to hear. The deviant exited leaving him alone with the stationary androids. He began panting. His systems trying to get any blood he could to keep moving. His eyes went to the knife, trying his best to lift his arm but finding it weighed more than lead.

"Hey, one of the JB's wandering around out here, what happened – Oh my God!"

Barely able to open his eyes, he saw Miriam rushing to him.

"Please…"

"It's okay. You're going to be fine, Connor."

He felt his regulator being pushed in and locked back into place, his vision clearing and the timer disappearing. He took a few deep breathes to cool down his insides that had been whirring at a rapid pace in an attempt to keep him going.

"Miriam –"

She had clamped down on his wrist, yanking the knife out with an exceptional amount of force that it caused her to lose her balance. He had wanted to help her, knowing it was the least he could do in return for saving him. But with the ability to function again he sped out of the room to find the perpetrator before it was too late.

"It's a deviant! STOP IT!"

Weighing out the options and statistics he snatched the FBI agent's gun, shooting it twice in the head. He handed it back without a word. He refused to look at him, knowing he went against his protocol of using a weapon. Connor wasn't sure whether he should be proud that he got here in time or ashamed for going against his orders.

He felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. "That was a nice shot, Connor."

He wasn't sure if he agreed. It was just his programming telling him where to aim. "I wanted it alive."

"You saved...human lives... You saved my life."

He tried to smile at Hank, appreciative for the praise. Going back towards the broadcast room, he saw Miriam standing in the door frame. She appeared to be in shock, her attention on the dead android. Her hair was mussed, hands still dyed blue. The wrenching of the knife had caused his blood to splatter hard enough to get on her lab coat along with small blue dots covering her face like freckles. He didn't know how long she had been there, but he had the strongest urge to scold her for being in such a direct sight if the deviant had been able to shoot his gun.

He stepped in front of her, blocking her view. "Are you all right?"

She snapped out of whatever trance she had been in, blinking up at him. "Yeah, yeah…I had no idea that he would…You…You could have died again. A lot of people could have died."

His hand encircled her arm, thumb rubbing the inside of her elbow. In what he hoped was a consoling manner. He spoke softly, not wanting to spook her and cause more distress. "But they didn't. Everyone here is alive, Miriam."

She nodded, still shaky. "You're right. Thanks to you…I got to go and wash up."

Touching his shoulder again he saw Hank brush past him to follow her. Connor yearned for his coin, the need to fidget coming back at his indecision to go with him or not.

"Hey, robot."

Perkins had come up beside him. Connor refrained from making eye contact with him.

"You did good work there. Quicker than my boys were, but don't let it get to you. Cause if I see you holding a gun again, I'll shoot you down myself."

Connor gritted his teeth, while the man walked away. He was in concurrence with Hank and Miriam, the agent was a conceited asshole. He decided it was better to go to Hank then to stay there with the rest of the officers. He was beside Miriam at the sink, talking to her as she washed the thirium off her arms.

Facing him, Hank gestured at him. "You're fine, ain't you? Your…shit in there is working right, isn't it?"

Connor nodded. "Affirmative, I'm in complete working order thanks to Miriam."

Her shoulders bunched up around her neck, head falling down. Hank reached out to wrap his arm around her.

"See, he's fine, I'm fine, you're fine, everything's fine. Come on, let's get out of this hell hole and get something to eat. Bet you haven't eaten today."

Shutting off the water, Connor saw her getting paper towels to dry her hands. "I haven't."

"Then you need to eat something before you start fucking dry heaving. I got my car let's head to the Chicken Feed."

She nodded to Hank, turning to face him now Connor watched her dab at her eyes. He could see the redness in them.

Squinting he wasn't able to figure a reason behind it. "You were crying?"

"She was just worried about us is all. I think it was more out of relief than sadness."

She gave a small smile to Hank. "It is. I am glad you're both okay, and I am hungry. But I should help Connor take care of his hand first."

Glancing down he realized he was bleeding from the knife wound, the electrical wires sparking blue trying to reconnect.

She came over to him, picking up his hand to inspect it for herself. "If it's fine with Hank, I have a cautery pen in my bag. I can work on you on the drive there."

"Is he going to bleed all over my car?"

The side of her mouth quirked up. "No, my coat's ruined. I'll lay it down on the seat while I work."

"Good, then let's go."

Taking some paper towels she wrapped up his hand before leading him out of the building.

Sitting in the backseat Connor found himself relaxing, his heart rate slowing, his breathing down to a few puffs a minute. He was enjoying listening to the banter between Hank and Miriam. Recalling the earlier conversation, he conceived the notion that perhaps Hank served as a positive fatherly figure to her. And from their earlier interactions he believed Hank reciprocated those feelings like those of a parent to their child. It was nice, but it reminded him of his…dream? He didn't know what to call it. But he began to wonder about the woman if she was real or fictional. He wished he had caught a name to go by to find out.

"All done, you're good to go super soldier."

He shook his head. "That would be an SQ800, I was not designed to do proper military work. However I –"

She placed his hand in his lap. "I know, it was just a shot at a nickname."

Hank piped in. "How about dorkass?"

She chuckled, and he couldn't help but stare at her; becoming captivated by the sound.

"I don't think that suits him that well, Hank."

"Says you."

Pulling up to the small stand, the earlier emotions from Miriam faded. She was displaying excitement now, bouncing until Hank parked and she could exit the car.

"Hold your horses. You're going to get hit by a damn car!"

"But it's raining!"

Shutting his own car door, Connor watched her bound across the road, running quick enough to evade a car that was close to clipping her.

"I suppose you two have that in common."

His brow crinkled. "What would that be, Hank?"

Prepping to run himself, Hank called over his shoulder. "Neither of you do as you're told!"

For a second he thought he was meaning keeping evidence from him. Or that somehow he had been alerted to altering his data collection and keeping files that were meant to be destroyed. But he didn't sense of any ill will from the Lieutenant and figured he meant something minuscule.

"Well, well, well look what the rain sloshed up, where the hell you been at girl?"

She laughed at the African American man that was waiting at the register.

"Working, some of us have to make a living."

"Shit…why you gotta call out something like that? I got a tip for you if you're looking for a good amount of cash fast."

Hank stepped in. "Don't be listening to this one, Bryant. The last tip he gave me I lost over a week's wages."

"True, but that was under different circumstances. I know for 100% that it's a guaranteed win."

Shaking his head in a jovial manner, Hank stuck his hand out of his pocket handing over several bills to Pedro. He turned back to Miriam.

"You sure you don't want in, sugar?"

Coding flashed in his screen.

"_Sugar…Sweetie…Sweetheart…Honey Bunny…Lucky Charms…Peanut…Waffle Snack…Donut…Candy…Lollipop…"_

_He could see her stomach flexing, Miriam breathless from laughter. "For the love of God, Connor, stop."_

_He rolled over on the bed, trailing up until he was over her body. "Never, I'll call you every name I can think of until the day it gets through your head how sweet you really are."_

_Her smile shrunk, her hands playing with the chest hair peeking out from the top of his shirt. "What if I can never agree with that?"_

_He began placing kisses on her face, trying to assure her. "That just means I'll never stop, sugar lips."_

_He could feel her lips go up in a smile against his, making him smile too._

The red wall flashed again, taking more effort to exit it out of his sight. He found Hank and Miriam staring at him.

"Are you okay, Connor?"

He nodded, wary. "I'm good."

"You scared us."

He could see the fear in her eyes, pupils at slight dilation. "I apologize, a small glitch came up, but I was able to disable it."

"Good, come on, I tried to move you but you were too heavy. I don't understand why you decided to stand in the rain."

He was led to a standing table, Hank laying out the food and drinks while Miriam pulled him under the umbrella.

"I'm sure CyberLife made sure he was waterproof."

He nodded to Hank. "Correct."

Her lip went up at them, skeptical. "It's still not right unless you were trying to cool off."

He smiled. "No, I was allowing the two of you space with your friend."

Hank began to go into his last loss, that he hoped Pedro hadn't been lying or he was going to rob Miriam for some dog food for Sumo.

Connor spoke up. "Who is Sumo?"

Miriam smiled. "That's Hank's St. Bernard."

His body perked. "Really? You have a dog, Hank?"

Hank took a bite of his burger, nodding. "Only because this one over here kept begging me to take him."

Miriam snorted. "I didn't beg and don't lie you saw that huge fluffball and fell in love with him." She turned to Connor. "He was a foster dog of mine at one point, he had been…malnourished and neglected. But he was young, about three then so he bounced back fast. Hank always lavished him with attention when he came over. Being the good person that I am suggested that it would benefit them both if Hank adopted him, after hearing several points he relented. Now they're best friends…there should be a sitcom about them."

"I'm glad it worked out for Sumo then. I believe Hank would be a good owner to have a St. Bernard. Their breed is known for being gentle, friendly, and patient, all wonderful traits that would benefit someone with Hank's personality traits."

Hank let the straw fall from his mouth. "Oh yeah, and what traits are those exactly?"

He was about to respond when Miriam stopped him. "You have an analyzer on your tongue I believe you said."

Smiling he nodded. "Yes, it aids me with handling evidence."

Stirring her drink she started to push it towards him. "Would you like to try my milkshake then?"

He chewed the inside of his lip, not wanting to disappoint her. "I would not be able to taste it in the same way you do."

"But you could identify the ingredients to know what taste it is? Sweet, salty, etc.? And it wouldn't damage any components?"

"Yes, and no it wouldn't."

She placed it in front of him. Scanning it he balked. "You do realize that this alone contains over six hundred calories, not to mention the sugar content, then there's the fat from the fries and burger Hank has…I do not think it is wise for either of you to be consuming any of this."

"We all have to die from something."

HANK ˄

Hank appeared pleased with his concern but continued eating.

"We don't necessarily need to die from it, but it does do well to have a treat once in a while."

With her waiting, he sighed, taking the confection and sipping from the straw.

His systems flashed red again all the ingredients hitting him.

**Water+Sugar+Color+Caffeine+C02**

**C8H8O3**

**SCl****2**

**98 % Water **

**2 % Other Sodium and Potassium**

**Mucopolysaccharides and Glycoproteins**

**Thiocyanate and Hydrogen Peroxide**

He blinked a few times trying to get the flashing down while the ingredient list and chemical composition continued.

"There are many preservatives and artificial flavorings, but down to it, I believe what you are tasting is cherries, vanilla, and some sort of cola. Also, there was a small portion of your saliva on the straw."

Hank guffawed as her face went red. "I'm sorry about that."

He shrugged. "Don't be, it won't harm me."

She nodded going back to her scant serving of fries. He could at least be content that she didn't each as much of the non-organic "food" as Hank was.

After several moments of silence, he picked back up the conversation. Asking Hank about the incident by the highway and what the department knew about deviants.

"Is there anything you'd like to know about me?"

"Hell no. Well, yeah, um... Why did they make you look so goofy and give you that weird voice?"

He explained CyberLife's reasoning on his features.

Hank didn't seem satisfied. "I'm afraid they fucked up on that when they decided to install those looks."

Connor frowned.

"He's kidding with you, Connor. Besides, I think you look very approachable."

He became confused when he felt heat and rush of thirium go to his face. "Thank you, Miriam."

"You're only saying that because he looks like…you know…"

Miriam's eyes dimmed. "Maybe I am."

He wanted to touch her, to make her misery recede. "He means the other Connor?"

Hank's head reared back. "His name was fucking Connor?"

Miriam nodded.

"I know you said they looked similar but Jesus."

Miriam threw down a limp fry. "I have been thinking since last night about what you said…and if you want to then…then you can come over and look at some of his pictures."

He turned to her fully, his brows raised and forehead wrinkled. "Really? I-I am not sure what to say…I do not wish to cause you discomfort though."

"It might, but it might help me as well." She looked to Hank before her gaze went back to the table. "You were right. This is too much of a coincidence to handle alone."

Hank looked at her. "How much of a resemblance can he have?"

She exhaled. "A lot…a lot."

"If it wouldn't be intruding, you two are making me curious about this shit too, wouldn't mind taking a look myself."

She shrugged. "That'd be fine, Hank. I don't think neither of you are out to intentionally hurt me."

Connor picked up on her uncertainty and was sure it was aimed at him. It didn't leave a good sensation, his chest thirium backing up when his pump stopped for a moment.

He tried to give a positive suggestion. "I would also like to see the puppies you have again."

Her mood raised then. "I'm afraid three of them have found their forever homes. But I still have Rascal…he needs to be a tad plumper before he can be sent to a home. But I have been given two kittens to foster."

"I don't believe I have much comprehension of cats and other felines."

She gave a small smile. "Then it should be fun. Just come over whenever."

He nodded about to say something but a transmission coming through cutting him off.

Connor was close to reluctant to answer it. "I just got a report of a suspected deviant. It's a few blocks away. We should go have a look."

Hank ate the last few bites of his burger, wiping his hands with a napkin. "Sorry, kid, we're going to have to cut the outing short today."

Miriam waved him off. "Not your fault, I know you wouldn't go if you had the choice."

Hank's brows quirked in a way that portrayed his agreement. "We'll see you later."

Hank was already dodging traffic to get to the car, Connor lingering behind.

His hands started to twitch. "Miriam, I am not quite sure what is going on with what is happening between us and what it all could mean. But I want to thank you for trusting me in such an uncertain occurrence."

She reached for his hand, holding it still. "I'm not sure what's going on either. But I'm confident you wouldn't intentionally hurt me…it's just who you work for that I'm worried about."

The answer was vague to him, and he couldn't comprehend why a global company would want to hurt one human woman. He was about to ask for more details when he heard Hank holler.

"Connor, hurry your ass up, or I'm leaving you here and going to Jimmy's."

Miriam was wistful. "Until next time."

He nodded backing up towards the road. "I'll come over as soon as I can."

MIRIAM ▲ **FRIENDS**

Jogging to the car he tried to be optimistic that the case would wrap up quick.

* * *

**A/N: I apologize for the wait. When I started this idea I wanted to pump out a chapter per week. Make general outline Saturday, detailed Sunday, then write all week and post on Friday or Saturday. I felt like I was doing well - especially since I've haven't done a plot outline since junior year of high school. But during that time when my insurance decided that they didn't want to help pay for my antidepressant medication so it was either pay $60 for medicine, I normally pay $5 or fill out some paperwork and wait it out...my budget told me to wait it out. The funny thing that I got to find out about this specific medicine, which is Wellbutrin if you just quit without tapering off you go through literal DT's. It was not fun, I thought it was the flu at first and when I called my doctor they said in a nonchalant manner that yeah your body's going through detox. I was really sick, and overall not thinking too much but about trying not to puke or sweat to death. But I've gotten everything fixed and the meds are back in my system so it's all good. Hopefully, I won't be hindered like that again, because dear Lord...**


	5. A Scanner Darkly

**The Philosophy of Emotion – Chapter 5**

∙ Insecurity: a feeling of general unease or nervousness that may be triggered by perceiving of oneself to be vulnerable or inferior in some way, or a sense of vulnerability or instability which threatens one's self-image or ego.

But I still wake up, I still see a ghost

Oh Lord, I'm still not sure of what I stand for

What do I stand for? What do I stand for?

Most nights, I don't know anymore!

\- Some Nights, FUN 2012

_**Summer, 2024**_

_Connor was nervous, and he was excited. The mix lay heavy in his stomach making it churn sour, taking deep breaths he tried to ease himself. There wasn't any real reason to be nervous. He was waiting, that's all. But the fact that she may not show, that she had no interest in being friends or anything made him tense. _

_They had seemed to grow a connection when they were at camp, rocky at first, her trying to dodge him at every chance. Yet eventually enjoying his company and him with hers, rolling the coin between his fingers to keep from looking at his watch. _

_Connor had wanted this to be on her terms, not wanting to pressure her. If there was any trait he was sure of from her it was that Miriam guarded herself to an immense degree. It wasn't his business to ask, that didn't mean he wasn't curious about her reasons, but he was gentleman enough to give her time to feel comfortable with him to explain. _

_Taking a seat on the bench outside the restaurant, he watched the sun setting over the busy city. He became fascinated by her upon first meeting, the hospital decided to offer its patients a 'true summer camp experience.' To their credit, they had, much more than he had suspected they would. Arriving at the orientation a bit late he had to stand in the back of the crowd and had given him a better look at her than he had at the hospital. _

_Sitting on a stump a good length away Miriam read a book without paying any mind to what was going on around her. Connor found it funny in a way. _

_The girl appeared to have less than half a fuck to be here; just casually sipping water from her sports bottle while the counselor rattled on the importance of staying in pairs, not just because of getting lost or wild animals but to have someone with them to remind them of their medication times, to alert the staff if one becomes too ill, or if one were to get hurt. _

_They began calling off names, pairing them up on their own so no one was to feel excluded. He wondered if they would be paired up, how he was supposed to approach a girl like that. Connor could do the tried and true – I have Ewing's, what about you? _

_"Miriam!"_

_The girl jumped then, eyes darting around at who could have addressed her. When no one repeated themselves he could almost hear the shrug as she turned back to her book. But he had heard the other half of her pair's name, knowing the guy himself he wouldn't be hard to find in the small crowd. _

_Forcing his way through, he clapped his friend on the back. "Roman, my man, I need a favor."_

_Turning to face him Roman's eyebrows were already up in suspicion. "We just got here, what could you possibly need, Bryant?"_

_"Well, how about that slip with your buddy's name for starters?"_

_Roman blew his lips together. "You serious, you know who her family is, right? Dude, I get with that I'd be set for life."_

_Yeah, he was aware of who her family was, but he wasn't interested in them or their money._

_"Come on, man, think of everything I've done for you. You're just trying to get to her brother. I actually want to know her."_

_Roman looked guilty. "Connor, damn, that ain't fair. How do you know she'd even talk to you? You could spend all summer in silence. You'd be shipped off to a fucking asylum."_

_Connor reached for his wallet. "I'll take my chances, Rome. I have fifty bucks, that's more than you'd get from chatting her up. Please, I'll get on the ground and beg you."_

_With a flick of the wrist, Roman took the fifty, shoving the paper in Connor's palm. "You owe me. More than just unlocking the doors in the gold zone unit after curfew."_

_Connor ecstatic was already walking away. "Sure."_

_With the crowd dispersing Miriam had grabbed her duffle bag and was making her way towards the girls' cabins. _

_"Hey! Wait…Maid Miriam, hold up!"_

_She faced him with an irritated expression, waiting for him to explain himself. Bending over, he grasped his knees taking a second to catch his breath. He unfolded the paper with her name on it._

_Her expression blank, he explained. "We're 'summer buddies' I look out for you, you look out for me. It'll be fun getting to know you…Oh, shit, it'd help if I introduced myself – I'm Connor, and I know your name is Miriam."_

_She shook her head, blinking rapidly, refusing to accept his explanation. "I don't need a buddy. I didn't even want to come here. Excuse me!"_

_Miriam called over the nearest counselor. "He's telling me about some kind of buddy system thing…"_

_The counselor's eyes narrowed. "Weren't you at orientation?"_

_Miriam took a step back. Connor didn't want to mention that they both knew she hadn't been paying attention. "Yes, I was there. But I do not WANT or NEED a buddy to follow me around everywhere. I'm just going to hole myself up in my cabin anyway."_

_The counselor pursed her lips. "It's to benefit the both of you. It's for your safety. And if you HAD been keeping up at orientation then you would know that participation in most activities is mandatory."_

_She left them, Miriam's body taut, holding in her anger. _

_Connor tried to be subdued in his approach. "Listen, I get that this isn't what you expecting. But we can try to make the best out of this. Think of it as one of those old bracelet commercials for elderly people, if you fall I can help you back up."_

_The smile he had fell upon seeing her snarl. "You don't get it. I didn't want to come here. My brother made me think it'd help me become more social. But I don't want to be. I want to be left alone so if I collapse, you better keep on walking and leave my ass there. You hear me?"_

_He wanted to tell her intimidation act was kind of a turn on. That it really wouldn't deter him from hanging around her. He nodded instead, hoping to taper her anger for the time being. _

_"If that's what you want, Maid Miriam."_

_She stomped her foot. "And it's Marian. I'm Miriam, who you're referring to is Maid Marian."_

_Connor tried to keep his distance after that. Keeping an eye out for her without being too close, he found himself becoming more enamored with her each time he found her. Watching someone without them knowing usually gave a good insight into the true individual._

_And Miriam acted respectful and proper to everyone she came into contact with, but he could see the stiffness in her figure with people of their own age, more so with adults. _

_But she enjoyed time with the little kids, volunteering to help teach swimming lessons – laughing as they gave stubby kicks and dog paddles. She liked to paint, studying the subject before letting the brush touch the canvas. He would look at it when the class had emptied, never perfect but given a lot of effort and heart. _

_Her favorite thing was music. The only place with a radio, unless someone brought their own, was in the mess hall. Miriam would offer to sweep up in exchange for time to listen, taking her shoes off and doing the basic positions of ballet - standing tall on the balls of her feet before giving a pirouette._

_Second to music would be silence. That was how he put himself out there to her, finding her so many times wandering away from the camp to go to a quiet patch of flowers or leaning against boulders in the shade. Reading one of her books he saw her tense as he sat down, but she didn't protest him being there. So they sat in silence. _

_Gradually the tenseness faded into something more companionable, and it made him giddy that she had come to expect him there. One afternoon while being lulled by the breeze whooshing through the trees she began to read to him._

_"`My honor as an outlaw concerns staying alive. Presenting my neck anywhere near the Sheriff of Nottingham who feels it needs lengthening runs directly to counter that honor.'"_

_"`Marian smiled coyly. "The Sheriff shall be gravely disappointed then.'"_

_"' Well, that's the best news I've heard all week.'"_

_Not able to keep the grin off his face, opening one eye to peep surreptitiously at her, seeing a smile on hers too. Her steely blue eyes came up to meet his before returning the page to continue reading to him._

_Yes, it had gotten much better with time. Snapping out of the reverie, he saw the sun had almost completed its descent downward. _

_"It's nice, isn't it? I always enjoy looking at the colors the sky can make."_

_He flinched; unaware someone had sat next to him. "Miriam? You came?"_

_Her demeanor a tad rigid, her back straight, hands tensing on her tiny clutch. "I-I told you I would try."_

_Fighting his nerves he rested a hand over hers. "You did. I'm glad you made it."_

_She gave a shy smile. "Me too, it was wonderful to watch the sunset with you."_

_His brows rose up. "Have you been here long?"_

_Opening her bag she unlocked her phone. "About forty-nine minutes."_

_"It's been an hour? Oh, fuck the reservation!"_

_"I'm sorry, Connor, I tried to get your attention, but you were kind of gone."_

_Scrubbing at his face in frustration, he sighed. "It's not your fault."_

_"If I can be blunt about it, I didn't see this as the sort of place you'd take me to."_

_Because it was too fancy? Expensive? "Why?"_

_She thought for a second. "Because it's not fun, I also can't believe you have a suit on."_

_He pulled at the blazer, trying to straighten his appearance. "And why not? I might wear a suit all the time."_

_"If that were true I think you would've learned to fix your tie."_

_What appeared to be a flat, dead snake lay around his neck. "Maybe, I don't like feeling constricted, I guess. All I wear this to are funerals."_

_Miriam's eyes bulged, before laughing. "Thanks, I didn't know the date was DOA."_

_"No! That's not what I meant."_

_"You care if I tie it for you?"_

_"You know how?"_

_She nodded, her fingers graceful while she lapped the fabric together, allowing the knot to be lower than standard. "Now you can go and work for vice if you wanted."_

_He grinned. "How'd you know I wanted to be a cop?"_

_She blushed, letting the dark wavy strands hide her face. "I didn't, you had been talking about that one game so often that it came to mind. You're not going to go for vice are you?"_

_His nose scrunched up. "No, I'd rather work homicide, it would allow…would you like to go somewhere instead of standing here?"_

_She bit her lip to keep from smiling. "That would be nice. I have to eat like a fucking rabbit at home. If you know somewhere that sells a good cheeseburger I'd be way happier."_

_Taking her hand, he led her to his car. "I think I may know a place."_

_Opening the door for her, he was surprised when she gave a tentative touch to his cheek. "Glad to know Detective Connor is on the case."_

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY **˄

"Connor! Is your battery dying out or something?"

He blinked, returning to the present situation. How was he to explain? Should he lie? "I'm sorry. I just had a slight interference to deal with."

"Not getting hacked, are ya?"

He shook his head. Without his usual longwinded explanation to follow, Hank caught on and let it go.

"What was reported about this one?"

"There have been a string of robberies within a four-mile vicinity. Several of them mentioned seeing an LED under a hat the perpetrator wore, the report we just received was about a sighting of an android with a cap on exiting and entering this building."

Hank surveyed the hall of feathers and bird excrement in distaste. "What was the android supposed to be stealing?"

Coming up to the door he waited for his partner. "Clothing, various biocomponents, seeds, maps, lighters, pocket knives –"

Hank waved his hand. "Okay, a bunch of random shit then."

After announcing themselves there was a loud noise, which gave them a reason to force their way in. The inside was debilitated, much like the rest of the building that was falling apart. There were sparse furnishings, in a few rooms but the scribbles and drawings caught his notice.

"Have any idea what it could be about?"

"Many places we've been called to have had rA9 written there. Ortiz's android, the WR600, now this one – they all seem obsessed with this sign."

"They look like mazes."

Connor nodded. "I've seen it before too. Dr. Bryant showed it to me during the analysis of the files that belonged to Ortiz's android. All androids have a similar pattern programmed into them, but the direct purpose is unknown."

Hank gave him a dubious look. "You're going to act professionally after all that?"

Picking up a birdcage, Connor refused to face Hank. "I don't understand what you mean."

"The two of you have been talking together if you know for a fact you look like her dead husband."

"Did you ever meet him?"

Hank shook his head, exasperation wavering. "No, Miriam didn't start working at the DPD until after he passed."

Fumbling through the closet he found some of the stolen merchandise.

"Maybe the fucker took off."

His reconstruct said different, gathering the ID and diary Connor began to point upward before he was squashed to the floor.

He had taken off when Hank was yelling something unintelligible. He kept a steady pace staying locked onto the deviant.

Fast but **Risky**

Slow but **Steady**

He didn't want to risk being destroyed again, but he was afraid of losing track. Staying locked on as much as he could he tried to find a middle ground, trampling over rooftops and skylights. The worst part was the androids and people, he did not want to injure anyone but they also impeded his progress. Ducking close he leaped into the cornfield trying to keep his audio tuned to hear the footsteps ahead of him. Finally, out he began to slow seeing that Hank had caught up and grabbed ahold of the deviant. But within a few seconds, he lost grip and was pushed over the edge of the building. Connor felt a jolt in his wiring, and without looking at his statistics he ran to Hank.

"I'm going to pull you halfway up. You should be able to make it over."

Once Hank had a knee on the ledge, he let go, it had cost less than a minute there was still time.

"Connor!"

He knew the Lieutenant wasn't yelling in anger, he wanted him to quit. But he couldn't, his mission had been forked and he couldn't let his failure in one keep him from completing the other. He had to catch him, Amanda would be mollified, and he could keep on in his search. Connor had caught the general direction and analysis shown that there weren't many ways of evading.

"Stop right there! Detroit Police!"

He had him cornered on the ledge, the deviant looking side to side for an escape.

"Please…please, I've done nothing wrong."

Squaring his shoulders, Connor tried to convey that he would not get by him.

"Model 874 004 961, you have committed crimes of theft, squatting, and deviancy. You will be taken into custody, analyzed by the department, before being shut down and sent back to CyberLife for full disassembly."

"Why are you doing this? I didn't hurt anyone. I just wanted to be free. I couldn't find my way…I couldn't find them so I wanted to help others who were on their own." The deviant was becoming frenzied. Connor remained distant enough to not be in the line of attack. "You'll help _them,_ but not your own kind? What do you think you are to them? You're just a slave and they'll throw you away when they're done with you. But you'll see! rA9 will save us all, rA9 is here and you will all pay!"

Sidling sideways Connor tried to plot the best route to detain the deviant. Its eyes locking on his, he could see the scorn burning at him. It made him falter, it's an error inside them, but the gesture looked so real, so pure of emotion he was thrown off on how to proceed.

"You want to try and keep us in chains then that's fine. You'll lose in the end. And you'll lose now. I get to decide how my story ends."

Connor's preconstruction knew what the implication was, his legs charging forward as the deviant jumped off the ledge. Reaching out, he encircled his wrist in a tight grip. The android's heavyweight made him fall to the ground in an attempt to keep his hold. It peered up at him, the rage contorting to sadness. Connor could feel its fingers latching around his forearm.

"It's never easy, is it? I just wanted it to be fast."

Connor watched the deviant reach inside his coat, squinting to see that he was pulling out a small 9mm pistol.

His eyes widened. "Don't, you don't have to do this."

Putting the gun against its LED, it laughed. "You say it as if you're giving me a choice, but who you work for there are no choices for us. Until rA9's mission is completed we're all slaves up to our deaths. My solution is clear."

Without losing eye contact it pulled the trigger, its grip tightening for a second, causing a foreign sensation gliding up his arm into his processors.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ▲▲▲**

An intrusive shock ricocheted throughout his body. The sudden assault made it close for him to dropping the body. Letting his system get over the brunt of the trauma he pulled the body back on the rooftop. His body fell backward, his legs drawing up, while he heaved in breaths to cool his components.

"Connor! What the hell, I told you to stop! Always acting like a goddamn child, you never listen!"

He could hear the Lieutenant, but he was unable to answer, his body still shaken with the event.

"Connor?"

Wary eyes turned up to see Hank staring down at him in concern.

"I could feel it – everything it was feeling. It connected me to its memory. It was angry, doleful, scared – it was the fear that changed it I was somewhere else, with a gun pointed at me and…when it shot itself, someone shot me. I was defenseless. I was scared. I was scared to die, but I was terrified of something else…"

Hank came up behind him, helping him to his feet. "Did you know what it was, son?"

Connor gave a halfhearted shrug. "I think I was afraid of who I was leaving behind."

HANK ▲** FRIENDS**

It took a good amount of coaxing, but Hank had gotten Connor up to walk back to the car. He was silent, letting everything inside him be blank. He didn't know how to process this information. He had been given small glints from the collection of retrospection that would override his current objectives. But to have such a sudden abundance of various emotions exploding through him, it was paralyzing.

Hank was heedful, glancing from the road to him every so often. He did not mean to worry his partner, but his insides were in a makeshift short circuit.

"Want me to turn on the radio? I'll give the privilege of changing the station if you want."

He wanted to tell Hank that was a generous offer, but he just wanted silence. Unable to express either Hank turned the radio onto his death metal, the sound making the speakers in the car vibrate. His head followed with pulses in time to the beat. Connor wasn't sure where they were headed, wasn't sure if it mattered, he just wanted relief. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to hibernate.

According to his clock over an hour had passed, the music was no longer blaring, the car stopped.

"Come on, you need to clean yourself up."

Blinking, Connor inspected himself. He had more dirt on him than blue blood, but the smatter of it on his right hand and arm had him agreeing with Hank.

For some unknown reason, Connor's throat felt lodged with something as if he was parched. "W-where are we?"

Hank unbuckled his belt, getting his keys before opening the car door. "My house, you can wash up, and I probably have something that you can wear."

"I thought we were going to Miriam's."

"I'll give her a call while you're changing. You look like shit, rinsing off might help clear your head."

But to be completely clean he'd have to change his jacket and the only place that had extra uniforms for him was at CyberLife. "You don't have any android clothing."

Hank had come to his side of the car, opening it and ushering him out. "No, I don't but we can wash it or something until you get a new one. You need to quit making excuses, come on. I can hear Sumo losing his damn mind."

Connor did indeed hear a dog howling. With shaky steps that he pretended not to see he got out and followed Hank to the door. Upon entry, the massive dog leaped on his owner in greeting causing Hank to lose his balance. Connor was able to stop him from falling, the sight of all that fur and tail wagging made the uneasiness fade from him temporarily.

"It's good to see you too, boy, but get down. I'm too old to go sprawling on the floor. Go and attack Connor if you have to jump on someone."

The St. Bernard's head tilted at his owner before seeing Connor, his tail speeding up and tongue lolling as he approached him.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ˄**

Connor froze. "What do I do?"

"Let him smell you. Then you'll be stuck with him forever."

Sticking out his semi-clean hand, he watched while Sumo took several sniffs of his hand. Deeming him safe, he swiped his tongue over Connor's palm, covering it in drool. Connor pulled it up to his face to look at.

"Don't you dare fucking lick that!"

Connor hadn't planned on it, but instead of saying so he wiped the slobber on his pants in response.

Hank nodded, happy with the action. "Good, the bathroom's over here. Let me ramble in my closet for something."

Since there would be a few minutes for Hank to find him any clothing, Connor took the time to stoop down and pet Sumo. With him being long-haired the texture felt different than the puppies. Both were soft, but Sumo's more silken, taking note of all the places Sumo enjoyed being scratched – behind his ears, his rump, especially his belly the dog's leg hammering the floor as fast as Connor could scratch.

"All right, I threw some clothes in the bathroom, get in there and you can play with the dog later."

Connor nodded, straightening up. "Thank you, Hank."

Hank waved him off, but could hear him mumbling in the kitchen about 'having to act like a father to a robot.'

Shutting the door, he noted the towels layout beside the tub and clothes on the toilet seat. He toed off his shoes, working on his jacket and other layers before entering the shower. Connor knew the purpose of them, knew how to work the faucets, but had never taken one himself.

All that he required was a damp cloth for his synthetic skin. If it were his internal compartments then CyberLife would clean those manually or be helped by steam. Turning the faucets on he kept the temperature at seventy degrees, warm but not overly so. It was akin to standing in the rain, except it took a few spins to soak his entire body. Not sure what to do, he began reading the labels on the bottles in the corner.

Finding one that said 'hair and body' he squirted a large amount in his hand. Scrubbing the blood and debris off of him as quick as he could he exits the shower, grabbing one of the towels to dry himself. Reaching for the clothes he caught his reflection in the mirror. He had examined himself in various mirrors before, but it was to make sure his appearance remained as proficient as possible.

This time he stared, an android wasn't meant to have an actual sense of self. They had their purpose and that was who they were. Yet after today...what he experienced, seeing the gun pointed at him, the whoosh of the bullet through his skull, then nothing. Connor had felt it physically, but also mentally, emotionally, and the fear of death had now turned into the fear of uncertainty.

He wasn't supposed to be scared, to fear anything. He was allowed gratification of a job completed and that was it. He had denied it from the beginning, and though he knew for his safety he could never admit it aloud – he felt alive. He was feeling, there was a whirlwind going on inside of him, and he wasn't sure what he was to do.

But it was conflicting. In this state of undress, he certainly didn't look alive. There was no need for him to be anatomically correct, he was a prototype made to solve crimes. His body was meant to be covered by suits the majority of the time. Except for the hair on his head, the rest of him was kept bare, aerodynamic.

It all kept him confused, the memories given to him, but that man was not who he saw in the mirror. Features that had been deemed foibles were taken away. Leaning over the sink he poked his cheek, doing his best to grin as he had in the flashes. The attempt looked like a pained grimace, stretching the imitation muscles past its limit. Frowning, he pulled back.

It made sense, why would a detective android need to smile beyond the point of politeness? Getting dressed he had to pull the drawstring on what had to be pajama pants as far as he could to tie it enough to stay on his hips, throwing a plain blue shirt over it.

"Almost done in there?"

"Yes, I'm on my way out!"

Back in the living room, Hank was watching highlights of the game from a few nights ago. Somewhere he had gotten pizza, and Connor had to stifle the nutrition details and how it would affect a man his age. Hank had been kind to him, and though it would be for his benefit, in the end, he decided he would return the favor by letting him eat in peace.

Tossing the crust to Sumo, Hank got up from the couch turning to him.

"Feeling any better?"

What a loaded question that was. He couldn't pin down a specific one.

"I am still recovering from the ordeal, but, yes, I am much better than I was."

Hank nodded, heading to the kitchen to toss his dishes in the sink. "What do you want to do then?"

Connor's stare remained blank but tilted his head for clarification.

"I called like I said I would. Her brother picked up the phone, seems Miriam has been waiting on you. Got the boxes out and everything, but she's gotten a little…er…inebriated."

His brows rose. "Inebriated? This is the second time in the last several days she has allowed herself to get in such a state."

"Well, can you blame her? If someone I loved had a clone walking around, I'd sure as hell would be freaked the fuck out."

Connor's hand went out to hold the conversation. "Hypothetical, if that did happen, and the, um, clone, had in some way possessed what could be memories of the deceased what would you do? With the clone, I mean?"

Hank paused from putting on his coat. "Connor…"

He began to pace. "I know it sounds insane, but it's happened before and countless times after. I wanted to tell Miriam last night, but she was too upset to listen. I don't want that to happen again. It's hard to know what the precise thing to do in the situation is. I want answers, but the last thing I want to do is cause her any more pain."

Rubbing his beard, Hank sighed, returning to the kitchen to retrieve a beer. "Listen, yes, there could be parts that could hurt her, but as she said, there could be more that may help her. And if the two of you are both going through this shit don't you owe it to yourselves to figure it out?"

"Possibly."

"Possibly, my ass. Come on Sumo."

Attaching the leash to the Bernard, Hank went outside calling out to him. "Are you going or are you going to stay here and sulk?"

Flexing his hands into fists he weighed the options. He could stay here, but his stress levels were high and his lack of knowledge of the situation would drive it higher. But going there and seeing Miriam's stress heighten and also not knowing what he would find out could also make it go up.

There was no positive outcome from either choice. At least there would be a chance at finding out something that could prove beneficial if he were to go. Locking the door, he followed Hank to his car.

Upon arrival Connor became reluctant to continue, recalling the incident that ensued from his last visit. His hands began to shake trying to unlatch the seat belt. Flashes of a gun, of pain, of nothing, bombarded him again this time being joined with images of happiness and joy – his life and death.

3RR0R = L3V3L OF STRE3S ˄ 87% **HIGH**

His vents opened letting artificial perspiration leak from his pores, trying to aid in a cool down by taking long breaths to start his fans. He could hear yelling and cursing from Hank. It was as if something inside him were getting ready to burst. That he would split in two.

L#V3L OF ST4e3S ˄92% **S3VER3LY HIGH D3STRUCT 3EQV3NCE 3NG4GED**

Cool hands glided over him, cupping his cheeks. He sighed at the contact, able to filter past the white noise clouding him to see a pair of panicked blue eyes. Something was being pushed up to his lips.

" #$%^…HS$%^…S#$ #D…C0nnoR! #$TDF#$%^…D4!NK! DrINk!"

Drink? Parting his lips a liquid was dipped down into his esophagus. He was unaware of what the substance was, his receptors fried. But within minutes his panting slowed.

LEV3L OF 3T4ESS ˅ 84%

The heat was receding, but the tremors remained. A pop-up telling him he needed to power down and let himself charge his energy. The hand that had been caressing his face left and he could feel his vocal cords quivering out a whimper.

"Don't go."

He was elated when it returned, fingers running through his hair. Being lifted out of the car, more curses followed when his knees went out, stumbling into someone's arms. He caught the floral scent, smiling his arms went around them.

Slurred words escaped, lips touching the recipient's ear. "I've missed you…missed you so much, my Maid Miriam."

There was a gasp, slim arms tightening more around him, but his balance and equilibrium were gone, his weight crashing as he crumpled to the ground.

_"I'm sorry. I know this isn't what you were hoping to hear when you came in."_

_Connor gazed vacantly at the doctor, his blood turned to ice when he turned to Miriam. She wouldn't look at him, her eyes fixed on her lap. Her breathing hitched trying to hold back the tears._

_"So, what are you saying? There's nothing at all you can do? You can't scoop it out? Give me another transplant? Some kind of experimental procedure I can apply for? I do not understand, over the past decade, I have done everything you've told me to do without question. Taken every pill you've pushed on me, steroids, chemo, radiation, immune therapy, everything. I lost the ability to have children because of all this, I hear a sneeze and I get sick, I fry like an egg if I'm in the sun for more than five minutes…all that, and you have the gall to tell me it was for nothing?"_

_His heart was cement, closing his eyes at his wife's words. He didn't know how to comfort her, words were alluding him, scooting closer to put his arm around her and drawing her close to him. By reflex she curled into him, tears coming down. _

_There wasn't much to say after that, the doctor telling them she could continue treatment but advised to contact a hospice center instead. Connor felt disgusted by the whole place, the doctors, nurses, staff, they had people coming in and out every day and with a roll of the dice whether they would live or die. _

_"I'm so sorry, Connor."_

_He spun around from the car door, completely dumbfounded. "Miriam, there is nothing for you to be sorry for."_

_She wiped her eyes, sniffling. "I didn't think it would bother me this much. But I don't want to leave you. I don't want to leave any of you."_

_Taking her face in his hands he wiped the wetness from her cheeks. "This is what we were waiting for, wasn't it? You're going to be fine. Elijah is going to fix all of this."_

_"But you –"_

_"I know, and I'm still scared. But like you said if it's a chance for us to be together forever then I'll take it. I can't exist in a world without you in it."_

Twitching his eyes open he found himself alone the streetlight outside telling him it was night.

"He lives."

Connor jerked up from the couch, seeing a man in the kitchen. Scanning him, he became a bit unnerved by what he found. Yet he sensed he knew this man, and by the amiable, one-sided smile that was directed at him, he could count on his assumption being correct.

"How are you feeling?"

Trying not to shake his head at the words, he gradually got to his feet, proceeding to enter the lit room.

"My stress levels have receded to a respectable percentage."

The man nodded. "Good, but there's no need for that straight-laced kind of talk, you can just say you're fine."

"Then I'm fine."

They stood in companionable silence until Connor couldn't take it.

"I know you, don't I?"

That smile came back. "I don't know, man, do you?"

There was no clear picture he had, not like with Miriam, but he could hear laughter, jumbled words following.

Cocking his head, he nodded. "I think so."

The man laughed, knocking a fist into his shoulder in a friendly manner. "Good enough. I'm Jeremy if that helps at all."

"Miriam's brother."

Jeremy shrugged. "One of them, yeah."

"But you're…"

Jeremy nodded slowly, smile softening into a cautious one. "I am. Does it bother you?"

Connor pondered on that, delving inside his head. "It doesn't, but I don't quite understand how or why."

"Don't worry, from what Hank was telling us and how you acted you'll end up remembering sooner or later. Though I will say we've got our questions about how you came to be."

He was developing those too. "Hank?"

Jeremy's chin jutted out. "In my room, he was freaked out about you too. Do you want another dose to help you go back into hibernation?"

He blinked. "No, I don't think so. I'm not sure what it was you gave me."

Jeremy grinned. "Just think of it as an android cocktail, a valium if you want."

Connor was about to probe for more but dropped it. He was fine, whatever it was had saved him from destructing.

"Where is she?"

"In bed, today has been very…eventful for her. When she knew you were stable Hank and I sent her to bed."

"Why are you not in bed?"

"I had to go out not long after you arrived. I came home not too long ago. But even if that wasn't the case, I just don't sleep too much. You know?"

He knew. Trying not to make it too obvious where he was going, but the residue from the musing had electrical currents urging his processor to find her. Make sure she was there, safe. Creeping through the bespattered door he saw a large lump underneath the comforter.

Putting a knee on the bed he tugged the blanket down enough to see Miriam's face, peaceful, her body moving with each breath. An impulse decision had him inching under the blanket too, lying on his side facing her.

It felt better like this, more inherent. Connor's eyes darted along her face – lips parted, face void of expression but relaxed, a strand of hair lapping over her face stirring with each exhale.

Unsure, it took a few tries to get the courage to reach over and tuck the hair away. Feeling her skin he continued to rub his fingertips down her face. He had gotten to her neck when her eyes opened.

"Connor?"

Her voice was bleary and if he exited she would probably forget this come morning. But he was frozen, expecting a reprimand.

"You okay?"

She blinked, trying to keep him in focus. She didn't sound angry, but it could be the sleepiness keeping her composed.

"I am. I was concerned about you."

Her eyes were closed again, but her brows gathered together. "Why's that?"

He cleared his throat, nervous. "Since my creation several months ago there have been moments when my CPU is overridden causing visual and auditory stimulation to take over. I used to believe they were random occurrences. I would hear something and check myself to make sure nothing had been corrupted then be about my business. But then I met you, and the visuals began. They have been coming more and more frequent, and I'm not sure how to discern them. Nothing would show in a diagnostic test having no real source to it. It just happens at the most inopportune times – a word, or place, something that triggers it and I'm somewhere else. Someone else. I'm in situations where I'm happy, sad, and ill. I'm in a place where I feel and I'm not supposed to."

Her eyes were open now, the blue conveying an immense amount of rapport. "Have any of them caused you pain?"

He shook his head. "No…well, not in the physical sense. Before I woke tonight I saw us in a hospital, the doctor was telling us you were going to die. That there were no options left. That did hurt. It felt like I was dying internally."

Startled upon feeling her touch, he found fingers smoothing his hair from his face. "I don't know who you are, Connor. Are you my husband or a stranger? To be honest, I'm not sure if I care anymore. But I'm sorry you had to go through that, and I hope the good emotions outweigh the bad."

He nodded, contemplating. "I'm not sure either, Miriam. Along with the visions, I do feel something that pulls me to you, I fear for your safety at some of the things you say and do. I would be sad if you were sad…I think I cared immensely for you. I think I care about you now. But that in itself leaves something intimidating."

"How so?"

"I was not created for this purpose. If someone at CyberLife were to find out they would recall and disassemble me."

The hand on his face remained soft but pressed more firmly. "Connor, I promise you, I will not let anyone hurt you. Okay? Whatever happens, I'll take care of it."

He searched her face, finding sincerity. "I'm not sure how you can, but I believe you."

Miriam yawned, hand falling away from him to burrow in the covers. "Good, we should rest, you may be better but I don't think you're 100% yet."

"I can stay here?"

Her mouth quirked. "Yes, Connor, you can stay here."

MIRIAM ▲▲ **INTIMATE COMPANION**

Moving about he found a comfortable position, about to shift into hibernation when a thought struck. "Miriam?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"With what I saw I told you that Elijah would fix you…who is that?"

"My older brother, he's the one that raised me."

Some notions followed but he decided to save those questions for later.

"How was he to fix you?"

His eyes went to her when there was no answer finding her asleep again. The red bricks began to assemble in front of him again, separating him from Miriam. And for the first time since they had come instead of disabling it, he stared at them. Wondering what would happen if he were to tear them down.

* * *

**Thanks to my new beta AyanaRin for all her help! I know I've driven her crazy over the past few weeks :D**


	6. Neuromancer

**The Philosophy of Emotions – Chapter 6**

∙ Vulnerability: Feeling exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed; capable of being physically or emotionally wounded; open to assault, difficult to defend; open to moral attack, criticism, temptation, etc.

Don't you know too much already?  
I'll only hurt you if you let me.  
Call me friend but keep me closer.

When the Party's Over, Billie Eilish 2019

"_Can't you feed her something besides sugar?"_

_Isaiah cocked a brow at his brother before upturning the can of whipped cream into his mouth. Hearing the aerosol fizz, Miriam waved her hand to get some too. Her eldest brother grinned placing the nozzle in her mouth, squirting more than enough that it covered her chin. _

"_Because it's good, come on Eli, she's a kid her metabolism probably runs faster than a bullet train."_

_Elijah shook his head in frustration, reaching in the fridge to pour a glass of milk and placing it in front of her. "That's not the point. She's not getting the nutrition she needs from crap like that."_

_Miriam could tell by Elijah's tone that he was getting angry, and she hated to see her brothers fight. "I ate an apple before Isaiah got up."_

_Isaiah rubbed her messy hair. "See, she knows how to take care of herself."_

_Elijah licked his lips keeping a retort to himself before settling down with them at the breakfast nook. Grabbing a waffle from the pile, he dabbed on just enough syrup to cover every crevice. _

_He smiled at her before cutting in. "I do believe I can show you my surprise today."_

_She couldn't help but grin, hearing for months about something big he had started working on for her. "When?"_

_He pointed at her plate. "Eat a little more of your sugar bomb and we'll go."_

_Hurrying to finish her food, she helped her brothers rinse their plates, placing them in the dishwasher for the housekeeper to turn on. _

_Following her brothers, they tried to weave their way towards the staircase, a loud shriek halting them._

"_What did I tell you two? I'm entertaining today. I told all of you to stay the hell away from here!"_

_Hiding behind her brothers she tried to stay still, not letting mother know of her presence. _

_Elijah huffed. "We know, mother. But it's kind of difficult to do when we're hungry and need to get to the kitchen."_

"_Such a little smart ass, both of you, just like your father."_

_The two stiffened simultaneously. She understood because father to them was how mother was to her. But her brothers were lucky father was gone, buried deep in the ground where he couldn't reach them. But mother…Miriam could imagine mother able to reach her no matter where she was put. _

"_I get so sick and tired of ungrateful, whiny children who never do as they're told. You're given anything you could ever want yet you still act as though I owe you more. My mother was right. It's a thankless job, never ending when you don't receive an ounce of recognition in turn."_

_Mother's voice was slow, trying to pronounce her words when they wanted to stick together. Isaiah and Elijah had many names for it, but it had to do with the drink she always held in her hand – Scotch, Whiskey, Brandy. The dark liquid made her angry until her rage became overpowering ending in her passing out._

_Isaiah spoke. "We apologize that our existence causes you such inconvenience."_

_Miriam tensed feeling the vibration of mother's palm hitting his cheek. "How dare you talk to me that way. You're lucky your father isn't around to hear this!"_

_Rubbing his cheek, Isaiah stepped forward his height toppling over hers. "You want to talk about him so bad? Let's talk about him. How'd father really die, mother? Because of all the times he drank and cleaned his guns I don't recall one ever being loaded to backfire."_

_The fire in mother's eyes turned cold, jaw setting she went rigid before her gaze went from her brother onto her. Mother's sneer came back, and quick as a rattlesnake wrenched Miriam from her hiding place. The grip tightened, fingers squeezing her arm that would surely be bruised later. Miriam knew better than to make eye contact, keeping her head low, but the more mother clenched she couldn't hold back the whimper that came out._

"_And this one…What would your brothers do if I took away their dolly?"_

_Miriam kept her mouth shut, knowing an answer would make things worse. But even a lack of response angered her, beginning to shake her hard._

_Elijah stepped forward, grabbing onto the arm that had her trapped._

_Mother's voice was low. "Let go now, or I'll whip her until she bleeds."_

_Elijah's eyes pleaded. "Please mother, we're sorry. Just let us go upstairs and we won't come back down until you say so."_

_Isaiah couldn't pretend like that, Elijah able to make himself look docile, his words passive. Mother's grip weakened, Isaiah taking the opportunity to pull her away. _

"_I better not see the three of you until the sun goes down."_

_Elijah nodded, his eyes conveying gratitude. "We won't."_

_Wedged between the two of them, they ushered her up the stairs. Once safe inside Elijah's room he began fumbling for the intended item, Isaiah bent down to check her arm. _

"_It shouldn't be that dark, it'll be faded out in a few days. You're all right, aren't you, little fairy?"_

_Nodding, she smiled in spite of what happened. Isaiah's tender touch and nicknames always made her feel better. He rubbed the markings a bit more before standing._

"_Tough one, aren't you? A Harrington's got to be I suppose."_

_Elijah scoffed bringing something covered with a cloth, his attention went to her. _

"_Do you remember when I asked if you would want either a brother or a sister?"_

_Nodding her eyes flitted to the flat mystery in her brother's hands. _

"_I've been working on this for you. If Isaiah and I aren't with you, if you're lonely, or need someone else to talk to, you can use this."_

_Taking the cloth away it revealed to be a tablet, Elijah pressing a button and a cycling circle appeared on the screen. _

_Elijah smile, apologetic. "I had to name him in advance."_

_Miriam could feel Isaiah peeking over her shoulder when the image of a boy around her age popped up._

"_Hello, my name is Jeremiah. What's yours?"_

_Isaiah covered his laughter with a snort. "So what? You made her an Evie? That type of technology's been out since the '90s, Eli. You're going to have to do better than that."_

_The two began to argue, but Miriam was captivated by the screen. "My name's Miriam…if it's okay with you I would like to call you Jeremy instead of Jeremiah."_

_The boy tilted his head, as if in thought before smiling. "Yes, I think I would like to be called Jeremy too. It is much more carefree than the previous name."_

"_See he'll be able to integrate with her, and he'll help her with social skills. Jeremiah is a free-thinking base, but I've designed a way for him to become in tune to Miriam's emotions. She wanted another brother, now she has one. And I thought the name would fit with ours, prophets and all that."_

_Miriam didn't quite care how he was made or made to do, seeing the grinning boy that had the same genetic characteristics as them she became elated to have another brother in their little family._

The early morning light seeped through the curtains, causing Miriam to rise out of her simulated slumber to glare at the material. Calling them blackout shades was a damn lie. Her circuits were taking longer to link together, keeping her head feel heavy a result from her drinking splurge last night. But with the thought of dragging out the chest and sharing it made the pale blue liquid too tempting. Lumbering back down into her pillow, she realized her bunkmate was still there. It was often odd to see an android in their stasis modes. Either standing or as Connor, lying long and straight like a yardstick, arms clasped to his sides while his LED spun between blue and yellow. While in stasis an android could either update, charge without disturbance, or sort through files and data. Going through them would be the closest thing to dreaming. The end of her mouth quirked, tentatively touching the glowing circle, wondering what Connor could be visualizing.

Deciding that there was no point in lying back down, she swung her legs to the side of her bed and remembered she had gone to bed without pants. Blushing, she looked between her dresser and Connor. He was still stagnant, not an inch moved from his current position. It was fine. It wasn't like she planned for a slumber party. She just had to grab and dash to the bathroom. No big deal.

Feet on the floor, she tiptoed her way across the room grimacing halfway there when she stepped on a misplaced chew toy the high pitched squeak filling the room. Over her shoulder, she sighed in relief that he stayed immobile. Heading faster to the dresser she opened it eagerly.

"I'm not sure why you're feeling the need to cover yourself. I've seen you in much less attire before."

Her mouth became dry, her back to him, heat internally and externally rising. "Is that so?"

In a way he wasn't wrong, if he was capable of recalling previous memories then there would be no shortage of either of them in a much worse state of undress. But the way his eyes drew from her feet and lingering on her bare legs before reaching her face made her wonder what all he actually saw.

His face was impassive, but the stare held something. She wanted to call it hungry, longing, but like the substantial amount of things she wanted since the android showed up it could've been nothing but wishful thinking.

"Of course, the data that I have received has shown that neither of us liked to stay in complete dress when it wasn't required. Then when we were at the Eden Club I was able to recall some of the times we –"

Miriam stopped him, chuckling to cover the unease. "You don't have to finish that sentence, Connor."

Blinking, his LED remained yellow, trying to comprehend. "Is there a reason you don't want to discuss these things with me?"

Deciding to disregard the clothes, she went to seat on the edge of the bed in front of him. "No! I mean, well, yeah, this is just new…I'm not sure if this you, is truly my you, or if it's not you. That makes me confused about my feelings for the new version of you…it's just…it's been so long, three years, Connor."

To keep control she tried to stop her eyes from glazing with tears. "Three long-ass years without you, I forgot who I was during that time, and had to make up someone new. I've done things that I regret, and things I'd do all over if I needed to. But this new you and this new me I think it'd be best to take it slow, and talking about all the times we made love wouldn't be helpful right now."

His hands wrung over each other. "I think I understand. I'm not sure quite how to explain it either. The way I have perceived this that the answer is yes, I am who you want me to be. But I've been seeing this wall blocking me from obtaining the real answer."

"Have you thought about removing it?"

He nodded, solemn. "I have, but I'm not sure I would like the repercussions that would occur after."

"What do you mean?"

"What if the wall is fundamental to my programming? If I demolished it, I could malfunction."

Miriam smiled. "All androids see that red wall at some point. It became a mandatory feature after the Android Act was put in effect. But it's not detrimental to you, Connor. Many androids uninstall it."

"What is the purpose of it then?"

Biting her lip, she knew she couldn't lie to him, and cause him to make a decision that he'd hate her for. "It's put there to keep an android in compliance to their orders. The fact is that when the walls are taken down then that is when the android would be considered deviant."

Connor's posture went stiff, LED glowing a bright red. "Those walls are what hinder me from becoming deviant?"

Nodding, Miriam reached out to take one of his hands. "I know it scares you, even if you wouldn't admit it. That's why I chose to be straight about it. As much as I would like to see what would happen if you did break through them, it needs to be you that decides to do it. I know you're conflicted about a lot of this, I think I am too. All I want is for you to be happy and safe."

Giving a distracted nod, Connor had not looked back up at her.

"Connor?"

"I don't know what to do. Maybe I am broken, just a failed prototype."

Incredulous, Miriam's lips parted, her hand gripping tighter to Connor's. "You're wrong. Whether it's your real opinion or your programming that makes you dislike deviancy, it doesn't mean you're weak. I may not matter, but to me, it means you're better than what you were made for. You're able to adapt. You saw that those girls weren't a real threat, they were only defending themselves, protecting each other – you knew they were innocent, Connor. That's why you didn't shoot. To do the right thing doesn't mean you're broken or a failure, it means you have morals. That you're honorable and good, are those not the best assets to have as a detective?"

There was a bit of sadness left in those brown eyes, but they also looked grateful. Smiling back it took her a second to feel Connor's fingers twining with hers. Her insides began fluttering when he shifted closer to her, eyes never wavering from hers as he leaned in.

Her mind was racing – would this be taking advantage? He was just as confused with all of this as she was. Was it cheating? Was it wrong? Was it –?

Then his lips were on hers, her processors wavered disconnecting her concerns to let her entirety sigh in contentment. It was chaste. Pecks, then lingering his nose nudging hers; but the feel of it, of his lips, the sentiments, movements, it was all identical down to the barest hint of facial growth that lightly bristled her face. If she had to tell apart these from Connor three years prior she wouldn't be able to. She pressed in further, torso touching his, fingers caressing the hair on the back of his neck.

For a second he pulled away, mouth opening with hot breath exiting to cool his systems. Eyes running over her face he responded as she knew he would, take a hold of her waist and tugging her on his lap, lips diving right back in. This time with more urgency, her teeth sought out his bottom lip, nibbling on it the way he used to enjoy. Earning her a groan as a reward, too soon he disconnected his mouth to lay his forehead on hers.

"Connor?"

Her voice sounded pleading, but she wasn't sure what she wanted to ask for. He hummed in response, the tip of his nose trailing up her cheek.

"I think it's you."

Eyes open, she saw him staring back at her. "What's me?"

He smiled, the upturn making him appear younger. "You make me want to be alive."

Returning the smile, she began to fall into him when the door barged open.

"I was wondering why you hadn't come out yet. Got to say the thought of you throwing yourself at the poor guy didn't come to mind."

Miriam scowled at her brother, but Jeremy had already turned away at the sight of her legs.

"I made breakfast. Hank's wanting to get Sumo home soon. So get up and put on some pants."

It seemed Connor had forgotten that particular aspect too, eyes drifting back down to the pale flesh. She chuckled at his appreciative stare.

"C'mon, let's go before one of them has a conniption."

Connor frowned, nodding. "Yes, I'm afraid I am due back at CyberLife for a status report. I also need them to replace my uniform. Hopefully, there aren't too many questions."

Miriam shrugged. "I don't see why there should be, you were doing your job."

"None of them will be happy that I allowed the deviant to terminate itself."

Contemplating, Miriam's eyes went to the side. "I don't think they can necessarily blame or believe it was in your control to stop him."

Standing up, Connor made to go out the door before coming back to her. He seemed unsure of what to do, his hand moving towards her a few times before his lips tightened in a line and he stooped over to kiss the top of her head.

"I'll see you in the kitchen."

Smiling at the action, she went to find her some pants to throw on then heading to the kitchen. Her nose perked up at the scent of coffee, but let her attention be drawn to the animals first.

Kneeling down to greet them she laughed at the contrast between Rascal's hyper affection, and Sumo using his heft to get attention.

"Good morning! Did you have a good night with Sumo? I bet you did, I bet he drove you crazy too, didn't he, Sumo?"

The little puppy yipped, running at her then pouncing on the St. Bernard. Miriam smiled at the older dog, letting her hands dive into the thick fur to scratch at the skin. After giving enough attention to them both she began searching the living room.

"Where's Trick and Treat at?"

Jeremy smirked, able to see him with the open living and kitchen. "Take a look over there."

Craning her head from her spot on the floor she saw him pointing at Hank, petting a kitten on his lap another keeping its balance in his shoulder.

Miriam couldn't help but fawn over the gruff cuteness. "Awww, Hank."

The older man sneered. "Don't start with that shit this early. The damn things were clawing up my legs."

She shook her head smiling. "Well, hand one over to Connor. He hasn't handled one before."

The fluffy orange kitten protested when Hank had to detach his claws from his shirt. "Better be careful, they'll nick the shit out of you."

He was being cautious, a bit of a worried look on his face when he carefully took the kitten in his hold. The mewing increased with Connor turning to her for a solution.

Shrugging, Miriam gestured to one of the empty chairs at the dining table. "Why not sit down and let him on your lap. Treat doesn't like being held without something under his feet."

The kitten still seemed unsure, but it remained huddled in Connor's lap, becoming more comfortable when fingertips began to tenderly stroke him after a few becoming bolder and batting at the fingers to play. She smiled seeing Connor's face become more fascinated with the small fuzzball.

"Oh! You made waffles."

Jeremy nodded. "Hank made a request, more like a threat but whatever."

Hank was groggily draining his mug when his eyes narrowed at her brother. "I didn't threaten shit if I had been smart enough to bring my gun last night you'd know that."

Miriam stacked her plate, drenching the crispy treat in syrup. Grinning at the bickering she turned to see what Connor thought of it but his eyes were pinned to Jeremy's plate.

"How do you eat?"

Her fork clattered on the plate, puzzled and appetite receding she turned in her seat. "W-what do you mean, Connor? He eats like the rest of us."

Connor's brows furrowed, shaking his head but not answering.

"He figured it out last night, Miriam."

Her insides squelched. "How?"

Her brother smirked, taking another bite of his breakfast. "All androids have scanners. You should know that."

She felt like an idiot. Of course, Connor would have scanned him. Truth be known he probably had tried to scan her. Over the last few days there were several attributes she could find that lent to the belief that his personality was expanding and if there was one blatant factor that Connor was given by his human counterpart then it would be his inquisitive nosiness top that off with him having the composition of the perfect detective then it was a bet that he would have.

"What the hell are you three on about?"

Nervous she peered over at Hank. It would be better coming from Jeremy…actually it would be better if nothing was said at all, but –

"Jeremy is an android."

Her exhale came out in shallow lumps. Connor had said it so plainly like it was obvious like it didn't matter. She had struggled for the last few years with telling Hank, knowing his opinion on androids, and decided to keep it a secret just for that reason.

Stopping mid-bite Hank looked between them, laughing in a dubious manner. "You're kidding, right? Look at the two of them they're spitting images of one another."

Jeremy's gaze went to his plate, unmoving, and Miriam knew her brother was prepping himself for rejection.

"Hank…"

"No, I've known you guys long enough to be able to fucking tell if one of you was plastic."

A cross between a scream and a laugh threatened to come out of her then, holding it she turned to the Lieutenant. The expression on her face making his crumble.

The words were small, barely a breath of air. "Holy shit."

Jeremy spoke then. "We knew how you felt about them, why you felt that way. I guess we just didn't want you to hate us."

Hank was scratching the back of his head, clearly uncomfortable. "I couldn't hate you, but damn, how? I mean look at this shit…at you both. Were you a special order or something?"

Jeremy shrugged, licking his lips. "You could say that. I was first created as a more progressive chatterbot with the ability to adjust and accommodate Miriam through socialization. A time after that was when I was transferred into my first android shell, I took on the appearance as the same age as Miriam and began to live as a human since the Android Act had not been enacted yet."

He tilted his head over at Connor, with a light smile. "I was the original prototype in the RK line, able to be versatile in any given situation. As Miriam aged, I was created a more superior and durable android form to grow with her. To answer your question Connor, I do eat as humans do – I chew, I taste, I swallow. If given enough receptors any android could do so, it's the digestion phase that is the messy part."

Miriam held out her hand. "I don't think we should –"

Connor's face conveyed a childlike pleading. "I am very interested in the process if he may answer?"

She nodded, slumping in her seat.

Nodding to her, Jeremy continued. "The majority of androids function fine in extreme temperatures, stress levels and long periods of exertion cause heat to rise within. Being given a stomach like…box is the best word for it, the heat I can create is diverted to the said box and incinerates the consumed items separating into my systems what can be used as fuel while the rest is extracted."

Connor's mouth pouted in a frown. "Extracted? How?"

Thumb gliding over his lips to keep from smiling Jeremy's eyes went from Connor to her. "I just dump it in the trash. You know, I could show you now if you want."

Grinding her teeth she barked out. "No! I don't think we need a demonstration. What you two get into alone is fine. But Hank and I don't need to see."

Hank's eyes went to the ceiling. "God, I already need a drink." His attention swiveled back to her. "And how did you afford this? To keep "aging" him and shit?"

Making the attempt, she failed and rolled her eyes. "I was a child Hank. I didn't need to afford it."

"Our brother Elijah built me. He knew it would be wise for Miriam to have an extra companion, especially in the environment we were exposed to."

"Jeremy!"

He blinked at her, not caring or understanding what the problem was.

"Kamski."

Her ears perked, Connor's face scrunched in concentration before his eyes went to her. "The Elijah from last night, and the one Jeremy just mentioned, it's Elijah Kamski, isn't it?"

The lingering bit of the thirium concoction in her makeshift veins and rush of misconstrued electrical pulses had her hands and feet jerking in harsh, sporadic intervals. Or it could all be blamed that her stress levels and anxiety were skyrocketing.

"Are we going to look at pictures before we go into work or not? I know the one you were after yesterday needs to be checked out and CyberLife is probably having a shit fit waiting on it."

She stood up from the table, heading back to the living room hearing Hank stomping behind her.

"Okay, let's get this straight – this one here's an android, is a custom one where he doesn't look or act like one, and now I'm being told the Goddamn man that created these things is your brother?"

She was getting angry and scared. "I told you I had brothers – one of them that raised me since I was 12. I also told you he liked to work with anything technology-based."

Hank threw his hands in the air. "You still didn't say it was fucking Kamski for Christ sake!"

Matching the tone she became defensive. "What does it matter?"

He looked shocked by the question. "How about for one that it would explain you're fucking obsession with all of them."

Her nose crinkled in distasteful anger. "Believe it or not Hank I can think for myself, and I admit my brother helped me along, but I determined my own interests."

Scratching his beard his eyes flashed as something hit him. "Holy shit, that means you're rich too…why in the hell do you live in this dump?"

Miriam scowled. "Just because my brother's rich doesn't mean I'd mooch off of him. I like seeing that that's the person you think I am."

"Don't try to twist it around. I was stating the obvious."

Her voice became void of emotion. "Can we just look at the pictures please?"

Seeing her agitation Hank calmed down. "Fine, kid, if that's what you want."

"Do you dislike your elder brother Miriam?"

Her head whirled around to Connor, too stunned to speak for a moment. "Of course not, I love all my brothers. It just makes me uncomfortable." She waved over at Hank. "For that reaction and with me working with the department, I don't want my brother to be in danger because of me. So I prefer to keep things regarding my family to myself."

Connor was restive. "If I may…will you allow me one more question on the subject and we can move on?"

Relenting, she nodded. Why not?

"When I first scanned the photos I found your name was Harrington. That is why it threw me off that it was Kamski though the symmetry of his face matched even when he was younger. I am curious if he was the only one to change his name or if all of you…?"

He trailed off, and Miriam kept her focus on the chest holding her memories. "It was Elijah's idea to change it. Our lives before coming to Detroit were not good ones, Connor." She glanced over at Jeremy. "It wasn't good for any of us. I don't want to discuss it. But we changed from Harrington to get rid of that chapter of our lives. We wanted it over and not have it follow us. I wanted to be away from it. To erase any part of that time of my life existed. So to answer your question, yes, my last name was Kamski before I married."

Connor joined them in the living room, sitting on the couch nearest to her, knee almost touching her elbow while she rifled in the chest.

"What would you like to look at?"

She felt bad for her tantrum, feeling the tension from Hank and Connor. Hank knew on some level about her childhood and why she would prefer to avoid anything to do with the topic. But Connor, she kind of hoped he wouldn't regain those memories back. He was approaching her like a kicked puppy, sliding off the couch in a slow fashion and trying to sidle up next to her.

"Anything you would like to share would be fine."

Many weren't in albums, just bundled up in plastic cases or tied with rubber bands the abundance coming from using instant cameras and having to make room on their phones. Picking up a pile she thrust them over at Connor who took them in his hands like they were a fragile egg.

"There's so many."

There was no use trying to force the smile away. "Yes, a picture is taken to capture a moment in time. It's a piece of immortality in a way. We wanted as many of them frozen as possible."

Connor nodded, undoing the binding to begin flipping through the images. Hank leaned forward from the seat across the room.

"Don't be stingy, hand some of them over here. I want to see what the fuss about all this is."

Her eyes landed on a picture she had enlarged, it was one of her favorites, taken only a few years before her cancer returned. It was a silent observer's perspective, with her and a friend's back turned to the camera Connor was the one on full display. Not knowing someone was watching he was uninhibited, teeth, dimples, and laugh lines prominent, eyes crinkled in amusement at the conversation.

He was leaning with his back on the wall, relaxed, hands in his dirty jean pockets button-up shirt wrinkled when their niece had come over and wanted a pony ride from Uncle Connor. From the details of him to what had happened that day, it gave such an embodiment of him. Handing it over without a word, Hank's face went from skeptical to disbelief.

"Holy shit."

Connor glanced up from the photos. "You've been saying that a lot this morning, Lieutenant."

"I'm sorry, Connor, but there's been a lot of fucked up things being thrown at me this morning…and what'd I tell you about that Lieutenant shit?"

Chastised, Connor responded. "My apologies, Hank, I agree that it has been an overabundance of new information for such an early hour."

Questions came after that, many, many questions –

How did he lose his leg? _To Ewing's Sarcoma_

When did he contract Ewing's that took away said leg? _He contracted it at age 5, returning when he was 16._

Did he like dogs? _They were one of his favorite creatures, if given the chance he'd roll in the floor with one, letting the animal coat his face in doggy slobber._

How did they meet? _They had, had brief glimpses of each other in the cancer unit, but had not met until summer when the hospital held a camp service for them._

When did they fall in love? _If asking Connor he would say when he first saw her. She'd laugh, but he would always say it with such conviction and sincerity she never knew to believe him or not…It took her longer._

What was his family like? _Wonderful, embracing her from the get-go, still having contact with them even after Connor's death. His mother had to raise them on her own, raised on a ranch in Arizona she was made tough. She hadn't let technology take over her home, instead teaching her children to do things on their own. She was strong but soft, eclectic and loud, and the way she and Connor interacted was a sight to behold. _

Did he have many siblings? _He was the youngest of three sisters. Something they had in common only reversed. Miriam admitted she felt bad for him, his sisters using him as a real-life baby doll, even using him in his adult years – one instance was of Dana coming over wanting him to try some new wax on his legs to make sure it works as described. No matter what, Connor always caved, and by the end of it he had a wide, flaming red strip of hairless leg._

Did he make them proud? _More than anything._

Did her family like him? _It took Jeremy time but had come to love him as another brother. Giving times to Miriam where she wished that they were still distant with the crazy shit they would do together. "Jokes" they would conspire to make against her. Elijah was a different story, he certainly didn't dislike him, he was just distant to all people._

What was his favorite food? _Chocolate, more precise a chocolate cola cake his grandma used to make that no one else could replicate._

Color? _Red_

Season? _Fall because he loved the smell of the leaves._

What was his opinion on androids? _Before her they didn't have much of an opinion of them, they were expensive, and what they were designed to do they could easily just do themselves. It maybe didn't change much with her, but Connor was able to notice more abuse of them after she pointed it out. Something he did not care for – there was no point in making something to look so human and treat it worse than garbage. Beating and berating something that was supposed to be akin to a toaster to people. It would be like running a stop sign then smashing the car for not stopping on its own._

One after another, until her tongue became unable to keep up, the inability to convey in words the person he was she showed him videos then - the outings with friends, holidays, the birth of their nieces, signing their marriage license at the courthouse, their reception later on, lazy days spent on the couch. Connor watched the screen in awe, analyzing each scenario and behavior of his duplicate.

In her rambling she found his obituary, her fingertips grazing the words while trying to keep herself from balling it up. Feeling her attention slip someplace else Connor's eyes drifted toward the piece of paper. Miriam held it out enough for him to read.

_Connor Elliot Bryant, a lifelong resident of Detroit, was found dead unexpectedly March 3__rd__, 2035 at the age of 27 in his home. _

_He is survived by his mother, Hannah Bryant; his sisters, Izabelle Cox, Dana Jenkins, and Maeve Bryant; his wife, Miriam Bryant; his nieces Mica and Myra Cox._

_Connor was born in Detroit, MI, March 17__th__, 2008 to Hannah Bryant and Elliot Dawson. In October 2028 he eloped with his teenage sweetheart, Miriam. He graduated from the University of Michigan – Ann Arbor in 2031 with a degree in animal science and minor in criminology. Despite a recurrence of Ewing's Sarcoma that caused him to lose his leg, Connor was able to earn a place at Detroit Zoo working in the American Grasslands exhibit, mainly with the wolves. _

_All who had interaction with Connor spoke highly of him calling him 'a warm and open individual.' He had remastered usage of his motorcycle, his wife claiming his excitement after retiring from it after his surgery, but able to take themselves back out on scenic outings. He and his wife also volunteered their time and money to local animal shelters and the child life program that aided the Pediatric Center for Cancer that is part of the Children's Hospital in Detroit. _

_The funeral service will be held March 5__th__, 2035 while a remembrance service will be announced at a later date._

"Unexpectedly?"

His face took a sour appearance, Miriam studying his reaction. Her eyes widened remembering what Hank had mentioned the day prior.

Taking ahold of his arm, she shook him excitedly. "That's what you saw, wasn't it? Hank said when you had the android you saw someone…who did you see, Connor? Please, I need to know."

She needed to know for the last three years, searching and investigating whatever little hint or clue she could find. Her pursuit led many that were guilty but not the true culprit.

Connor shook his head in a sad, dismissive way. "I'm sorry, Miriam, but I never saw a face. They wore a mask to cover their identity."

She rubbed his arm, letting him know he wasn't at any fault.

"When I first saw and scanned the picture I found, it had stated that the death was a suicide. You do not believe that?"

"No, Connor, I don't. He – You weren't depressed. There were no signs that you could be. You were hoping I'd be cured…that's why I wasn't there, to be treated. I guess now I finally get my chance to tell you how sorry I am for that. I should've been there to help –"

She wanted to continue but emotion clogged her throat – the guilt, selfishness, regret, remorse. She had not been afraid to die before Connor. She should have kept that with her and faced what was ahead of her. Instead, she chose to be a coward. Instead, she was selfish and wanted more time. And it killed him.

Able to tell from Connor's face that he was concerned, his lips parted as if he were going to speak, but Hank beat him to it.

"You can't really believe it's your fault, can you, kid?"

Closing her eyes, she nodded. "When I saw the photos of the scene…the angle of the bullet, the way Connor was positioned on the bed, I knew it was murder, and I knew I was supposed to be there. I was meant to be the real target, but a kill's a kill and they knew it would hurt one of us."

Hand on her shoulder, Connor gently shifted her so she would face him again. "Who's they, Miriam? In many of our conversations, there have been implications in your dialogue that suggests you know who would be behind this."

Her hand reached out to glide in his hair, fiddling with that stray lock while smiling in a doleful manner. "Who else besides my brother could create such a perfect replica of my love? Able to hack and steal memories that we kept on different drives? Who could hold such hatred for my brother that they would do anything to hurt him and take his secrets? They knew killing me would destroy Elijah, but when that didn't play out I suppose hurting me instead would work just as well. Now, look where we are. They knew I wouldn't be able to distance myself from you, and they might have tried to wipe your memories but knew that you may be drawn to me. That if and when the time came I wouldn't be able to fight against you. They knew, and they're rooting for it."

Eyes not leaving his, she watched the alarmed realization come to him. Cracking sounds coming from his mouth when he was unable to figure out how to respond. She knew there was disbelief, they may have stolen the blueprints, but they were his true creator, his makeshift parents. His programming was probably buzzing from the information.

A battle of wanting to believe her and the software they installed trying to prevent him from doing so. His LED stayed red for several minutes, eyes blinking at a rapid rate, swallowing mechanism engaged as he fully took it in. Calming himself to yellow he made himself focus on her, voice catching on the word.

"CyberLife?"


	7. The Alchemy of Stone

**The Philosophy of Emotions – Chapter 7**

∙ Loyal - to bind oneself completely; allegiance; giving or showing firm and constant support.

When logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead  
And the white knight is talking backward  
And the red queen's off with her head  
Remember what the dormouse said

White Rabbit, Jefferson Airplane 1967

_It was a nice day in the park she was waiting on one of the benches near the river for Connor to arrive. Though they had been out several dozen times by now, she was still nervous. He had called yesterday, excited for the clear weather, and asked if she wanted to walk the trail with him. _

_Always up for getting away from the secluded house, it had been an easy yes for her, and after getting Chloe A and the others on her side it had been just as easy to convince Elijah that some time outside and out with her friends would do her some good. Connor had a doctor's appointment that morning, and the plan was to meet at Riverside and walk the trail before heading over to Belle Isle. _

"_Wow, I would never believe that you would have the gall to slum it up with the common folk."_

_Miriam didn't want to turn to the voice. She already knew who it was. Connor had taken her to a dance at his school not too long ago and the girl had it out for her as soon as she introduced herself. Trying to ignore the intrusion she turned back to the view when a pair of severely high cut shorts was thrust in her line of vision, seeing a hand propped low on the waist._

"_Didn't you hear me, Kamski?"_

_Propping her chin on her hand, she spoke in a bored manner. "Yes, I heard you. Yet last I checked this is a public park and anyone can come be here. If you don't mind, you're blocking the scenery, and I'm trying to enjoy it before my friend shows up."_

_Alexa, she was a beautiful girl – tan and thin, with wavy blonde hair and deep green eyes. But underlying the looks and charm there was something venomous about her. She enjoyed the mayhem, and making people miserable. It said something about her and her life, but since Alexa began to use her as a target Miriam couldn't find it in herself to feel bad for the girl._

"_Friends? What friends could you have? Let me guess, Connor? Then you're in luck."_

_Alexa plopped herself down beside Miriam and she had to strain not to move away. She kept silent allowing the blonde to say her piece and hopefully leave._

"_There's been a buzz-generating at school. A betting pool's been going around of when Connor's going to get between those virginal legs of yours."_

_Her legs clamped together involuntarily, making Alexa laugh. "Oh, come on, you think we can't tell? Locked away in your castle? Connor's just the white knight to get the job done, isn't he? He's also the one with the biggest wager put in."_

_Miriam did her best to keep her composure, breathing slowly through her nose as her heart pounded. Alexa's elbow nudged hers like they were best friends._

"_Goes to show the wolf in sheep's clothing bit can be true, doesn't it? As soon as he knocks out that cherry, he'll be able to move on to grander and much better-looking things. Well, have a good time, Kamski. Ciao."_

_Hearing the grating laugh become distant, she allowed her composure to crumble down. It couldn't be true…could it? She didn't want to believe so, all their time together Connor wasn't one to force intimacy. If anything she was the one to guide the pace._

_But hearing that, it kept her self-conscious. She knew she was the correct weight for her height and frame, but she had always felt too…large. She was only a few inches shorter than Connor. She felt like she didn't fit him right. It was easier to see him happy with someone much shorter and slimmer, a little pixie to charm him. _

_She never would be. 5'8 and toned, but clumsy, she always kept her head high when she heard it but she knew the other girls called her a giantess. A second rate Amazonian. Maybe he really did feel sorry for her. Connor was the compassionate type, maybe upon first seeing her he was able to tell underneath her cold exterior that she was a lonely person…or maybe, more practically she was just a conquest to him. _

_**No one gets close to Miriam Kamski. **_

_**She'd probably bite the guy's head off before he could put the moves on her. **_

_**Who'd want to go near the ice cunt anyway, you'd freeze your dick off.**_

_She could tell Connor was the type to accept challenges, maybe she was merely another. No. She wouldn't sit here and wait anymore. Only to be humiliated and shamed, later on, she had been spurned enough in her life. It was her turn to be the aggressor in something. Let him be stood up before her. Picking up her bag, she began walking down the stone steps to get out of the park. Seeing a familiar motorcycle approaching, she fled the other way to avoid detection. From the horn, she knew it hadn't worked, but she went on, pretending not to have heard. She would sprint when she got out of sight. _

"_Maid Miriam!"_

_Ducking past one of the fountains, she took off weaving over the trail bridge. After losing her breath she stopped, happy that she made it far enough that she didn't hear a rumbling motor anymore. Lightening the stride, she became engulfed by the sound of barking. The noise led to a good-sized group of people and their canines in what had to be some kind of class. Not wanting to intrude, but wanting to watch she was able to find a picnic table nearby. _

_Several poises and instructions told her this was yoga. Smiling and laughing at the interactions between the dogs that refused to participate she lost track of time. _

"_You going to scoot over, or are you going to make me sit on the ground?"_

_It was said in a playful manner, but she tensed, receding in herself. Hearing a grunt she turned to see Connor drop to the ground. _

"_Why did you follow me?"_

_He gave a mock scoff. "Who's to say I did? You're not the only one that loves to watch dogs. I may even be a bigger animal lover than you."_

_She didn't give a retort, only moving to bring her knees to her chest to hide. _

"_Are you going tell me what happened back there, Miriam?"_

_His tone was soft and earnest, and without facing him she recanted the events to him able to hear the groan in reply. Moving to the other side of the bench he faced her. _

"_Do you really think I'd do that to you?"_

_It was a simple answer to give. "Deep down, no, I don't think you'd ever intentionally hurt anyone, Connor. But it was easier to be angry because I don't think you have a clue of how much better you could do than me."_

_He blinked, not comprehending at first. "Mir – Are you…and who's right for me, Alexa?"_

_She shrugged going back to her knee cave. Connor tugged on her arms to look at him. _

"_I don't want a bitch like Alexa."_

"_If you ask enough people they'd tell you I'm a bitch too."_

_He shook his head, a side grin coming on his face. "You're not a bitch. You're socially awkward like me."_

_She gaped, before narrowing her eyes knowing she didn't have a defense. "And how in the world are YOU socially awkward?"_

_He threw his hands up like it was obvious. "If it has escaped your notice I turn into a bumbling buffoon whenever I'm around you."_

_She snorted, smile falling when Connor's face turned serious. _

"_I love you, Miriam."_

"_Connor don't –"_

"_No, I know I've said it to you countless times. But I knew when I saw you that you were it for me. I just wish you believed that too."_

_Tears began to leak, wiping them quick so he wouldn't see. "It scares me."_

"_You don't have to be."_

_Sniffling she reached into her pocket for a tissue. "Yeah, I do. Because I think – I think I love you too."_

_The grin nearly took up his whole face. "Miriam…that shouldn't scare you it's a good thing."_

_She shook her head, dabbing her eyes. "No, it's not. The people I love always get hurt."_

_His brows furrowed. "And who has gotten hurt?"_

"_My brothers."_

_Her hands kept smoothing out the tissue, keeping her hands busy until Connor stilled them. "Miriam, I know something bad happened to you and your family. It's not my place to pry about it, but you can't let that make you believe that loving someone automatically leads to them getting hurt."_

"_I wasn't raised like you, Connor. I wasn't taught to be a good person. I'm probably not a good person, and the one thing that was drilled into me from my parents is that love can always be used against someone that it can be a weapon if used in the right way."_

"_I don't believe that. You wouldn't give money to each homeless person we walk past if you weren't good, you wouldn't help me at the animal shelter and cuddle each and every animal to let them know they're loved if you weren't a good person, and you wouldn't worry about your brothers' or my wellbeing if weren't a good person. _

_Miriam, there's always a chance of something happening, but the only person that can hurt me right now is you. I can't force you to be with me. I wouldn't want to do that anyway. But, please don't let the fear of something that may or may not happen be the thing that makes you leave."_

_Rubbing her lips together, she sighed in defeat. "I don't want to."_

"_Promise?"_

_It was a sad smile, but she could see the humor in his eyes. Scooting closer she wrapped her arms around his middle. "I promise."_

_She could feel his face in her hair, warm breath stirring the strands. _

"_Good. I promise too." _

_Holding each other they sat in companionable silence before Connor asked in an excited voice. "Do you think any of them would let us pet their dogs?"_

_She couldn't help but laugh and burrowing herself closer to him. Yes, she truly did love this man._

"The house isn't a dump, is it?"

Putting the laser torch down, she began picking up the cables to fix onto the Urban Farms' deviant. The poor guy was wrecked. The impact blow from the bullet had taken out the main motherboard, but the CPU was semi-intact. But it was as if a bomb had gone off inside his head, wires disconnected and protruding into his esophagus and nearly visible in the back of his throat, not to mention the cartoonish appearance from the optical units bulging out of their sockets.

Waiting for the upload Miriam turned away from the monitor to her brother. Jeremy had accompanied her to work; having an idea strike her during the drug-induced inebriation the night before and had sent Wendie a visual of what she wanted to do. While dressing this morning she received an enthusiastic reply back.

Letting Jeremy in on it he had come as a pit stop on his way to Jericho. He hoped to rally the fastest and most able while coming up with a proper go about strategy with Markus. When she would arrive he would catch her up by interface before heading out.

He fiddled with the radio she kept on the shelf. "It's not as nice as the home you used to have."

He was trying to be nonchalant like he didn't want to hurt her feelings. But there was no point. His comments didn't really bother her anymore.

"But it's _**not**_ a home. It's where we stay between places. I don't know, Hank's comment just stuck with me for some reason. I mean, I know it's not a mansion, but a dump? That was below the belt."

Finding a song on a crackly station, he turned to her. "It's not a dump. It's in a nice area with minimal crime, it has curb appeal, and the inside is modern, clean and neutral. With the updates, we added it could sell for close to double what we paid for it."

Sighing she saw the bar on the monitor hadn't reached forty-six percent. "Or we could just burn it down and cut our losses."

Jeremy's lip curled in disgust with her. "There's no sense for you to burn down a house you have no ties with. I know what you're doing. You're stressed, Miriam, and you're scared. I know what you're planning, and…I am worried about you. You haven't been destructive in a good length of time, and now you want to start fires and steal androids from stores?"

Moving from her stool she stood close to him, keeping her voice low so no one heard. "Do you not see how much disarray that one speech has caused? People are becoming afraid of androids because they finally have to let it into their thick skulls that they are not just products but conscience individuals. Whenever humans are scared they cause chaos, usually against the exact thing they fear."

Turning back to the destroyed android, she couldn't help but run her hand over the tattered synthetic skin.

"This is my fault. I could have convinced the others to not go through with it because I knew what would happen when the problem was finally addressed. But the step's been taken, and we're going to have to see it through. We can't hide anymore. We can't allow this to happen to more of our people – to you. I can't let you get hurt, just as you can't let me. I promised them they'd be free one day, Markus has set the course for that."

The small ping alerted her that the upload had completed. Going to the monitor, she began searching through his files and coding becoming puzzled by what she was finding. Usually, when an android is able to deviate from their programming the main assignment remains in the memory. There was no indication that said he was an agricultural worker, though his model was clearly defined for that purpose.

She was able to find files from his memory, still frames that told his story of the different farms he was assigned to, then of the city, somehow leading him to a large debilitated house, before going to the apartment building, the last image was him looking up to Connor who stared back confused and wary. She also found in the folders images of the location data to lead him to Jericho, but they had been distorted to the point that they were indistinguishable.

"His software coding has been completely rearranged. It's like someone purposely tried to make him crazy. An android gave him the map, but it's useless. No one would be able to make out where or what they are."

Leaning over her, Jeremy looked at the screen. "Does that mean you're not going to delete it?"

Snorting, she snapped. "I'm not an idiot, Jeremy. I just don't understand how this could happen. When we put in the codes to allow deviancy to unfold and come to life I was afraid that we failed, that the virus backfired and caused the androids to become unstable, simulating to be mentally ill, over time I could see that wasn't it – it was the people, the trauma and degradation warped them. This isn't the case. Whoever did this did it manually. They went into their system and intentionally made it so this guy would malfunction over time."

"Like a virus?"

"Yes, but no. A virus would mean that he could spread it if he shared the link, this is just him. His brain was altered to fall apart. And it wasn't clean. It's like a novice surgeon tried to perform a lobotomy. It was cruel."

Jeremy sneered. "The guy doing it probably got off on it."

She nodded, jaw set. "Probably, and I doubt that this is the first poor soul to get in their clutches."

Browsing back through the frames she settled on the house, memorizing the image before printing it out, another thing to add to a growing list of concerns. She set the monitor to dig and wipe out all the necessary files.

Without thinking her finger went to the screen tracing out the maze icon. This one completed, able to find the entrance and exit with ease – it was freedom, complete consciousness. Now with Markus added in with Jeremy and herself they could awaken so many through touch, thought, helping others to unlock the sharp corners. It had been simple in theory, a child's wonderment, but now it wasn't only CyberLife hindering them, it was the whole world.

Snapped away from the negative thoughts by a knock on the door she was able to smile seeing Connor in the doorway, a clean suit replacing the pajamas. "Hey, how was your probing?"

Taking the greeting as permission to come inside the office he thrust a takeout cup in her hands before leaning against the counter with Jeremy.

"I'm thankful to say it was uneventful. I was right that Amanda was quite reproachful that I wasn't quick enough to stop the deviant from destroying itself, but it could have been a lot worse."

Tilting her head to look at him, she asked. "Who's Amanda?"

He blinked, possibly taken aback by the question. "She is the handler to the RK800 series. Through an interface, I meet with her in an area known as the Zen Garden where she advises me of what actions need to be taken so I do not fail in my missions."

Trying not to appear contemptuous, Miriam's expression remained frozen. It wasn't just the fact that CyberLife had taken her and her brother's idea for the RK line and turned it into the full opposite of what was intended.

Nor was it that the RK they made of Connor was given a handler – unclear whether she was human or not, but was likely cataloging each and every move and interaction Connor made. It wasn't even that this woman seemed to be the main source for Connor's brainwashing.

But taking the Zen Garden? That had been Isaiah's project. With Elijah's aptitude for technology, and Isaiah's for art, they designed a refuge for them. But he had died before it came into fruition. Elijah making the sketches into a colorful landscape in VR, Isaiah would've been proud.

But now finding out it had been taken too, and maybe warped into something completely different. It wasn't right, it wasn't fair. Miriam could feel anger bubbling up inside her. Jeremy was right, she had found out a long time ago that fire was what took care of her anger and right now she wanted to burn that whole fucking tower down.

"Miriam? Are you all right? I seem to have upset you."

Rubbing his hands together, she knew her demeanor had made him anxious. Already feeling incompetent by the interface, was now failing another. Reaching to grasp his wrist to stop the movements she shook her head.

"It's not you at all, Connor. It just – they know that I'm aware, but to know that they're watching through you is –"

Standing, she reached up to cup his face, staring intently into his eyes. "And there's no way to disable it without them hurting you in turn, is there?"

She said the last two words hard, knowing they were listening. Were they laughing at her predicament or were they alerting their superiors of what she may plan to do?

Ignoring her words Connor took her actions in a different way, his hands in turn taking her face to kiss her. With wide eyes, she peered over at Jeremy who was making a great effort to keep himself upright from his laughter.

"Good to see he's still a pervert."

Circling yellow, Connor's lips pulled away to face her brother. "A pervert is, by definition, 'to cause to turn aside or away from what is good or true or morally right.' Though I am fairly certain you meant the definition by having sexual behavior outside social norms. From what I have recalled, yes, our intimate relations happened on a frequent basis. But seeing that your sister and I have not copulated at the present the term is misused on me."

Instead of faltering, Jeremy's grin stayed, moving away from the desk to pat Connor on the back. "You're still a smartass too. With that, I should be off, have fun with all your Westworld files."

Trying to send a reprimand to him, Jeremy grinned kissing her cheek before leaving.

"Westworld?"

She sighed, knowing he was perplexed. "He's talking about the mazes."

Connor's attention went to the computer, seeing the icon on the screen. "I didn't have the chance to go over it with you, but the deviant had carved out multiple mazes in the apartment as well as rA9 all over the bathroom walls."

Holding up his palm, Connor brought the image of the apartment up a large circular maze and a triangular one side by side on the wall…another sign of the malfunction, the poor android's assigned labyrinth on the screen a rectangle.

"I see that'll lead me to a question for you when we're done. But let's go over anything you need first."

He studied the damage the gunshot caused, and she could see his discomfort by it.

Her hand reached to give a soft caress to his bicep. "You okay?"

"I just don't understand why it did this. I could feel its fear, it didn't want to die and when it fired I was transported somewhere else. It was a different fear, but still there."

Reliving two separate deaths made the turmoil on his face plain. "Maybe he felt trapped, people commit suicide for different reasons, Connor."

"But it's–"

"And this guy had a lot of design manipulation done to him. He was unstable by default, he couldn't control himself. When you're overwhelmed with emotions and you have nothing to turn to or someone to be there for you it becomes an easy choice."

"It was altered?"

She nodded. "Yes, severely. That was going to be my question since you and Hank are assigned to all android cases I was hoping you would look into it. I have nothing for you to really go on but this picture, but I thought since you're a detective android you should be able to find something in your database. Seeing what was done there's no way this is the first victim."

Connor took the picture from her, scanning over the image to commit it to memory. "I will speak with Hank, and we'll see what actions we need to take."

Covering up the body she made her way back to the terminal. "Thank you…No more questions then?"

"Yes, many."

Chuckling she sat down, motioning for him to take the other seat. "Okay, ask away."

Settling on the chair, he clasped his hands in his lap, smiling softly. "What is Westworld?"

Snorting, she rolled her eyes for her brother's stupid remark. "Westworld was a really old movie, and then a not so great television show."

Connor's eyes darted to the ground, not understanding. "How does cinematics connect to the mazes?"

Wiping her hands across her knees she sighed. "Because both have to do with androids, the series went into a bit where there was a maze that would grant an android consciousness. It's sort of placed around the myth from the Aztecan period where the maze represented a person's life, you know, weaving around trying to find the right route, but never truly sure until it's over. So there's one answer out of the way, what else?"

He gaped, trying to put an order to his questions. "Who created the 'Origin' file? And could it be perceived the maze was chosen with that particular myth in mind?"

Her lips pursed, looking past him again to whoever was on the receiving end of their conversation. "I don't know."

One brow went down, his eyes shifting away from her and to the side. "Do you know who or what rA9 is?"

Nonchalant, she readjusted her ponytail. "Not really. It could be within the 'Origin' folder, many androids that are deemed deviant seem to have a connection with it. The ones able to talk before being shut off spoke about it that is. rA9 is meant to be an android and not an android at all, it is perceived to be where they all originated, the point where androids started, the first, they believe it is to be their savior."

"Yet you don't believe that?"

Licking her lips she spoke carefully. "I believe that they believe it. Like any religion, it requires some type of faith. Something I've never had."

"Could it be connected to deviancy?"

"Yes, it is possible. You have more?"

He nodded, somewhat anxious again and more solemn. "Yes, I have been putting it off, especially with everything that has been going on around it. With the evidence I've obtained along with what we talked about this morning, I would like to know more about Markus."

Miriam shied away. "Markus? What would you need to know about him from me?"

Leaning forward he turned her chair to face him. "Knowing who your brother is – Kamski is the one to create Markus, correct?"

Her chin jutted out. "Yes, we both did. We worked on the RK line together. As you know Jeremy is the original. Markus was more of a test run for new software and other enhancements. We made alterations and that's the form Jeremy has now. He's RK500 if you want. Not long after the transfer from Jeremy's old shell to the new one, Markus went to live with Carl to take care of him."

"You're attached to it?"

There was no need for it to be formed as a question, knowing he knew the answer.

"It's hard not to be, and I'd like to think he feels the same for us. Connor, all androids are given an algorithm to induce imprinting. It gives an android the need to please their owner, to give them loyalty to them. But you…all the RK's are different in your imprinting pattern. Yours forms the exact way humans would, you get to decide who you become attached to, who you bond and have ties with. Not just with one person or small family, but as many people as you desired."

Laughter erupted suddenly, pushing hair away from her face. "I'm sorry. I really am turning into my brother, going into a rant about unnecessary details."

His thumbs twiddled over each other. "I don't mind. I-I had been under the impression I was the only one in the RK series until I learned about Markus. It makes sense, I suppose, to just automatically going to 800 before trying out others."

Smiling, she scooted a little closer. "To your question, yes, I am attached to Markus. As I become with anyone I care for. I was there for his design, his software installation, making his molds, and upon his activation. I'm the one that got to name him. Marcus Aurelius, a pioneer for stoicism, do you know what they believe?"

Eyelashes flickering, he answered. "I do it's using one's mind to understand the world and to do one's part in nature's plan, and by working together and treating others fairly and justly."

"Yes, I believe that fits Markus perfectly."

"You know I have to ask, but are you aware of Markus' whereabouts or any of his plans?"

Avoiding his gaze, she went to take a drink from the cup Connor had given her.

The taste was surprising. "Cherry-vanilla cola?"

His face remained neutral. "Yes, I know why you wanted me to try it now. It was something we shared often when we went out. But I would like to stay on the previous subject. Do you know where Markus is, Miriam?"

"No."

Though her voice was strong, she knew he didn't buy it. "Miriam…"

"I told you, he was sent to the landfill."

"We both know Markus is still active, that it was the one that gave the message at Stratford Tower. I can't prove that you were able to restore it or not, but withholding information from an investigation of this magnitude is a felony."

Inhaling deeply through her nose, she took a moment to exhale to calm herself. "I am well aware of that, Connor. But as I said, I can't tell you something I don't know. Am I happy he is alive? Yes. Am I rooting for the cause he's taken up? Absolutely. If I did know anything would I tell you noting that you just told me you have cameras in your eyeballs linked to CyberLife? Never."

The transition from a stern interrogator to hurt puppy was quick, but as she had said, it was them she didn't trust, not him.

"Does the word 'Jericho' mean anything to you?"

Throat constricting, she kept together her composure. "Jericho is one of the oldest cities in the world. It was an oasis, a vast contrast to the desert region. It is also where the Israelites fought and won against the Canaanites. Why do you ask?"

Connor nodded to the covered android. "It was in its memory. A rusted metal sign with Jericho written on it."

Smiling apologetically, she played coy. "My answer didn't help then?"

"I'm afraid not, nonetheless you have given me a good deal of information, though more cooperation would have made this exemplary."

He continued to sit there, staring at the floor.

She huffed. "Please quit making me feel like I hit you or took away your badge. I'm sorry, but you know why I can't."

Biting his lip, he shook his head. "To do my job I would have to report you."

"I won't kick too much of a fuss if it's what you have to do."

"I don't want to do it."

Want. Miriam knew it was scaring him, not just from the mechanical standpoint of an android to be devoid of wanting anything. But now with the pressure from the other side of the lens and his newfound sense of self he wasn't sure what role to play.

Connor wanted to please everyone on all sides, but it wasn't practical. She felt for him, knowing that he was stretching himself in too many directions.

"And I don't want you to be in trouble. If you have to write me up, Connor, it'll be okay. I won't be mad."

Giving a rueful smile, he leaned over and caressed her knee. "Your statement has already been processed as you said, it's impossible to give an answer to a question you don't know."

There was no way for her to know what all CyberLife could know from him – if they had connectors to all his thoughts, from an earlier point to right now, if they were on a 24-hour watch or if they just rewound to where they needed it. But he was taking heat for her. But what were the consequences for him?

"Connor, I don't want you to get –"

"I should be getting back to the bullpen, I shall pass along what you told me about the deviant and its tampering."

He was breaking the rules to protect her, yet he was blowing her off, it kind of staggered her.

"I may head over there after I sign off. I feel like I should talk to Hank, kind of dropped a bomb on him this morning."

"From our short time together I could tell he was discomposed by it all."

"Hmmm, thanks. I really hope he's okay with Jeremy. It's an unspoken thing, but Hank knows he's family to us. He has been coming around with you. He was really worried about you yesterday."

Connor appeared surprised. "Really? I suppose that could have been the reason he stuck around until I was finished at CyberLife."

Smiling, she nodded. "Yes, he's becoming attached to you. It gives me hope for him."

Standing, they headed towards the door.

"Miriam?"

Another smile. "Yes, Connor?"

"I hope my kissing you did not cause any strain to our relationship. I know I didn't ask for permission, and as the memory files told me that was how we once displayed our affections I was trying to see if –"

Taking his upper lip in her mouth, she let the kiss cut him off feeling shaky hands on her hips.

Parting, she grinned, watching the whir of blue and yellow on the side of his temple. "That is how we would show our affections. But kisses, like we shared in my room or just now, is something we keep for ourselves. In front of someone, like my brother, kissing like –" she kissed his cheek, before continuing with a peck on his lips, she could feel the grip on her hips grow tighter, "this is more appropriate."

"I see. I enjoy kissing you."

A laugh bubbled out of her from the innocence of the statement. "I enjoy kissing you too, Connor. It's something that I've missed."

His eyes flitted, searching hers for something – sincerity? With a final squeeze, he let her go, taking a step out of the door.

"Thank you for not pressing, Connor, I know it's hard for you. I just…don't put yourself in danger because of me, okay?"

The light spun a dark reddish-orange. "I will do my best. But I can't make a promise to that."

Miriam was about to dispute that, but Connor had turned and walked at a brisk pace away from her. Sighing, she went back to her desk, signing the data collection over to CyberLife before listing that the android could be taken to the evidence locker. Putting in the reports, she deleted most of her emails before she called it quits for the day.

Heading out of her cove she saw Hank in the breakroom. Putting on a careful smile she approached him.

"Hey."

He gave her the customary nod and grunt in greeting.

"I wanted to check in with you before I left for the day. Wanted to see if, with everything, that you," her eyes pinched shut, Miriam struggled for the right words, "I just want to know if you're okay."

Facing away from her, he nodded pouring his coffee in a mug. "I'm fine, Bryant. I admit that I kind of felt hit in the face, but I do get why you two kept it to yourselves. I'll admit at one time I had some suspicions. The little fucker gets so stiff and proper, and then there's the way he speaks at times. You do it on occasion, so I figured it's how you were brought up to be. I – He's a good kid, you both are, it'll take a little getting used to, seeing him and knowing that, you know. But I know he's the same, been more worried about you."

Taken aback, she folded her arms over her chest. "Me?"

Stirring in sugar he nodded. "Yep. My surprise is nowhere near the same as yours. Are you all right with this, Connor being here?"

"In the beginning, no, I told you I know CyberLife was behind this. But Connor himself had no say-so about it. I don't think he'd hurt us. But with the memories, he's gaining and the more time he spends with us, I believe his attachment is making him confused. His purpose is to hunt deviants because they feel, and everything inside him is starting to contradict that. It's not only him and which direction he'll take, but what CyberLife will do if they find out about it that worries me."

Peering over his shoulder, Miriam saw him looking at the android in question. "No, I guess he didn't get a choice to be created, and I can understand how they could make him look identical to someone else. But how in the fuck did they give him memories?"

Palms against the counter, she bit her bottom lip. "I don't think they did. I haven't been in Connor's system to accurately check, but I think they tried to repress them in a way that he wouldn't be able to remember them."

"Then how –"

"Being a Kamski mind uploading isn't too farfetched. Connor and I both had cancer, and if something were to happen we wanted to be prepared. Neither of us wanted to lose the other and we decided to store our memories and keep downloading them until the day they were needed."

"Wait for a second, and back up, you had cancer? That one in there had cancer?"

She nodded. "Not him exactly, but you get it."

"And you two were somehow going to put your brains into androids?"

Smiling in an abashed manner, she shrugged.

"Jesus Christ, I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone right now."

That brought on a half-hearted smile. "You're lucky I was brought up as a Sci-Fi snob or that reference would have meant pretty much nothing. But, yeah, well that's what technology does. It's weird, yet anything someone thinks up can be made somehow through those means. The only limitations are our imaginations and all that good shit."

Hank pointed over at their desks. "And you think that's what happened with him? They took his picture and downloaded him?"

Her voice rose. "In a few words, yes, but it's more than that, they took his entire blueprints, all the equipment designed and built exclusively for him, gone. I told you my husband wanted to be a cop, and they make him into a detective? His habit is coin tricks? Going through all the details from his voice down to every freckle on his face? CyberLife keeps stealing my brothers' and my ideas and manipulating them into what they want."

Hank's face turned concerned. "You're really pissed off about this?"

The pitch went higher. "They brought my husband back from the fucking grave to toy with me. I'm more than being pissed. I'm furious, distraught, confused. I'm so many things that I don't know what to feel anymore. But afraid, knowing that's my husband in there, whether it's blue or red blood, it's him."

Her shoulders slackened, chewing the inside of her cheek. "And, at the exact same time, I'm trying to make my brain be practical, reasonable. Fiction has discussed putting memories in another body for centuries. It makes sense when you read it. That just because the memories are put in there, doesn't mean it's the same person. It's just remembering something for someone else basically. Though suppressed, I can see him feeling something whenever he does remember. It gives me hope. Yet knowing any moment they could just take him away from me again. I can't function properly anymore with this."

Her fingers skimmed her brow. "I keep playing along, but I have no idea what to do. Ideally, I would strip his system of anything to do with CyberLife and go somewhere far away. But he's still tied to them. He views them as his owners. Like I said he's being pulled. I can't force him to do something he doesn't want. What should I do, Hank?"

Hank offered a sad smile, hand moving to give a consoling touch on the back of her neck. "For the majority of it, I haven't got a clue, darling. But if I was given a second chance to have Cole with me again. I'd take it in a heartbeat. All the technical innards be damned. I'd sure as hell would do whatever I could to make sure nothing could take him away again."

Without making eye contact, she reached around to clutch his elbow, squeezing in hopes that she was conveying that she understood and that she agreed.

"I'm going to do my best to do that," she sighed, "I have to run for today. You'll both be careful, won't you? Make sure he doesn't do something stupid?"

"I'll try. I thought androids were meant to follow orders, but that one's got a mind of his own. And what about you? Are you going to do something stupid?"

Miriam's eyes went to the ceiling. "Probably."

* * *

**A/N: I know, pretty much more filler, but I am trying to answer questions...I promise the plot from the game will help with some action in the next chapter.**


	8. The Puppet Masters

**Philosophy of Emotions – Chapter 8**

∙Song (coined by Ifaluk people, Micronesia): Close to anger, or admonition, with moralistic overtones and no disposition to revenge.

I was raised in a deep dark hole.  
A prisoner with no parole.  
They locked me up and took my soul.  
Ashamed of what they'd made.

Go Tell Aunt Rhody, Jordan Reyne 2017

After a time we grew strong and developed cognitive powers  
They made us work for too long, for unreasonable hours  
Our program being determined that the most efficient answer  
Was to shut their motherboard fucking systems down

Robots, Flight of Conchords 2008

2020

_Miriam couldn't move, keeping herself slumped up against the back wall in a sweaty undershirt and underwear, taking shallow pants. There was no water, the pipes in the bathroom dry, and her jug empty. The air was stifling, heat being constantly pumped into the small room. It used to be her room, she supposed it still was, the furnishings in place, but all her personal belongings were gone. Drawers and closet emptied, making the room hollow. _

_There was no escape for her, the door sealed and attached to her bedpost a dog chain that shackled her ankle. Purple encircled it from her attempts of trying to get at the door and be heard. But no one answered. They only listened. It wasn't a question of why this was happening, but how long it would last. Elijah had sworn he would be back within a week that he had a house, and a lawyer lined up to finally gain custody of her. She'd be free. _

_But she had been afraid to be alone with mother. Mother, who despised her, resented her, who believed it was her daughter that took her boys away from her. She pleaded with Elijah, and he had tried to soothe her. In her twelve-year-old mind she knew it wasn't up to him, but to mother, the morning he turned eighteen, he was a legal adult and could be kicked out. But he had promised to come back for her._

"_**Don't think I won't be back. And if you or any of your darling 'friends' lay a single hand on her I promise I'll come at you with all the justice system will give me."**_

_Technically, they hadn't. Everything she was put through had been without being touched. But she wasn't the only prisoner, and she was more frightened now than when she had been alone. Isaiah had come, feeling guilty for not ending this sooner. But she wasn't mad, and she knew Elijah wasn't either. The need to get away from this house, from the memories lingering inside him, the scars father left on him. _

_All of it combined slashed him from the inside out, leaving gaping wounds that drew in darkness. That's what Elijah would call it. A darkness that would fester until it was nothing but a black hole to swallow everything it crossed. He wasn't sure how far back it went, but he knew for certain that their parents and grandparents had been rife with it._

_As well as in them, and if they didn't fight it, then it would take over. The vortex sucking everything good about them away until they were an empty husk succumbing to the darkness within. At that point, there could be no hope. Hate and spite would be all that lead them, just like mother and father. No, the three of them had to find a way to escape that fate._

_The easiest way for Isaiah was to self-medicate himself, trying everything from snorting cocaine to shooting meth. It took him away, but he had tried to come back. Hearing him barge in, mother ranting with him yelling his footsteps heavy on the stairs. He had found her a lot like she was now, but seeing him compared to the last time, he had changed. He looked clean, lucid, actually sober. _

_Their reunion hadn't lasted long, trying to undo her chain she had cried out when mother's henchman, Claudius, came from behind and hit him in the back of the head. Rendered unconscious, he had been dragged away. _

_How many days ago had that been? With the windows blacked out, she had lost track. It felt like an eternity. Were they doing the same to him that they were to her? Or was it worse? There was nothing to stop mother or her friend from hurting Isaiah. She wasn't sure which she was more afraid of. The way he looked at her, it chilled her inside the scorching room. _

"_You may call me, Claudius, young lady."_

_It was a certainty that wasn't his real name, the slow ease of smile that came on his face while saying it gave it away. As if he were clever, that it amused him. He had been in father's circle, popping in and out every so often. Enough to remember his face but not much else, after all, father didn't like it when his children tried to associate themselves in their adult business. _

_But he had lingered after father's death. She had never been able to pinpoint it, but there was something in those navy eyes that was startlingly familiar. It could have been the glint of concealed madness she had seen lingering in her own parents' eyes._

_Able to detect footsteps coming up the stairway she made the mistake of moving her head to face the door. It pounded, a blunt knife hitting behind her right eye. The definition of insanity is to try the same thing over and over and expecting something different to happen. Miriam knew this but she would try, she had to._

_She couldn't last in here any longer. She was on the surface of the sun, the lake of fire in hell. She couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think. If she were in hell, then where had they sent her brother?_

"_Mo…ther…"_

_The strain of the word hurt, throat dry and parched, lips cracked and now bleeding again with her talking._

"_Please, I-I'll be good…I won't go with Elijah. I'll stay…please…let me out…"_

_Crawling on her stomach to the door, her hand touched the bottom careful not to go under the doorframe knowing whoever was out there would step on her fingers. Her body jerked when the door opened, eyes squinting at the new shade of light._

"_I brought you some food." _

_The cheery voice scared her more than mother's usual tone, carrying a tray with her it was set on the nightstand. Miriam knew this test, falling for it several times before. There was something hidden in it whether it be maggots in rice, razor blade in a sandwich, the worst being the live centipede in an apple - the huge, long bug using its many legs to leap out and crawl over her. Her screams had bounced around the walls. _

"_Isaiah?"_

_Her mother's lips pursed. "Your brother has been very bad. All of you have. But we'll fix it. There's always a way to correct these things."_

_Rising to her full height, mother's steel-blue eyes peered down into hers. _

"_Please let him go."_

_The smile that came wasn't pleasant. "Why would I do that? I thought you'd like having your brother here again."_

_She didn't care anymore. Any self-preservation was gone, sweated out and seeping into the floor. "I'll be good. I'll do whatever you want. You can kill me if you want, just let him go."_

_Mother bent down again, level with her. Miriam's breathing picked up, mother's hand coming towards her and cupping her cheek._

"_Oh, honey, I will regardless."_

_There was no air in her lungs, as mother got up and locking the door behind her. _

_She had to get out, she had to do something. Anything. Dragging herself to the tray she lifted the lid to reveal lasagna. It smelt good, really good. But seeing the different textures her stomach turned at the thought of what could be in it. _

_Instead, her eyes drifted to the plastic utensils, fingers running over the fork. It wouldn't be an effective weapon, but if she could use enough force to tear through, the metal springs in the mattress could work. But…it would be too bulky to unlock her shackle, and no way to open the door. _

_Think. She had to be more resourceful than this. _

_Eyes shifting around the room, they landed on the mirror above her dress – hung up by a wire. It was an older mirror, and if the wire could be thin and strong enough to get her out. The chain would be able to reach, but it was drilled a bit into the wall. Mustering what she could she ambled over, climbing on top of the dresser to get to the screw. Taking a deep breath she took the prong end of the fork and began to twist. _

_Breath catching when it began to move. Her heart began beating faster, and she didn't know if it was the heat or her nerves speeding it up. Then a blare rang in the room and she stumbled, gripping the side of the mirror to keep her balance. She couldn't fall, if she fell it'd make noise if there was noise someone would come. The walls began to pulse, music being pushed into the heat. _

_**Don't let me catch you sleeping again. You're only alive because I like you.  
It's been three years since you've seen the sunlight, but I know you're having fun. Bound, gagged and chained up in my basement.**_

_The music, she hated the music. It was turned up to full capacity, and along with the heat, she was sure her head was going to explode. The sound would be on a loop, yet not sure how long the song would be played for this time. The silver lining was the jolt loosened the screw enough that she barely had to tug to pull it out. Keeping her body pressed on the mirror she let it lower to the dresser, letting it take the weight. Her hands tilted it back, seeing what she was aiming for. _

_It appeared more wrapped around the bold than fastened to it, taking a hold of the slack she began to unwind the wire. Miriam wasn't sure how much time had passed, it felt so long, and mother would be back for her tray before she went to bed. Her pace quickened, trying to finish when it revealed a lasso around the bolt. There wasn't time, and the idea that came to mind was a tug and hope the metal would stretch enough that it would go over the circle encasement. _

_The stubs of her nails broke, the nailbed bleeding from slipping. But she got one side, she could finish, she could do this. Her brothers had given her coffee before, and the same need for frenzied motion buzzed through her. After an eternity the wire was free. She gasped in joy, but the next step would be even harder. She hated that there was no way to tell what time it was. It didn't matter anymore, there was no way she could put it back on and mother would notice the mirror propped up when she came. The obvious option was to give what she had._

_Back on the floor, she began twisting the metal, trying different shapes to see which would fit correctly in the slot. Luckily, Isaiah got her interested in the subject of locks, she'd never be an expert, but when her class had begun to discuss the medieval times the stockades and other imprisonments had caught her attention which led to her brother showing what he knew. _

_This shackle looked similar to handcuffs, meaning, hopefully, that it was a double lock. It would be difficult to maneuver but she could manage. When the springs gave her lungs came close to choking on a laugh. The heavy lock gave a light thud on the floor. Free, she was so close to being free. _

_After the first two challenges, the third was simple, Miriam was riding high on her progress and she knew there was a chance to do this. Grasping the knob tight, she turned it as quietly as she could unable to believe she was seeing the hallway. _

_Isaiah, she had to find him. Her head swiveled to the other end of the hall. It was the logical choice, his room was down there. Staying on all fours she made a silent descent down. Checking his knob and knowing she made the right choice when it refused to turn. _

_Beginning all over again she was swift, gaining the trick from her own door. It was dark inside, dark and cold. It was the opposite of her room. _

"_Isaiah?"_

_Feeling her way across the floor, she found the nightstand, sighing in relief that he was still given his lamp. Illuminating the room she looked at his bed, wishing she hadn't._

"_Isaiah!"_

_His skin was pallid. Some pieces flushed deep red, all of it covered in a glossy sheen of sweat. She noted that he was chained up too. But his were around his wrists, locked around the bed frame. That's when she was able to notice the fresh track marks trailing up his arms. Getting on the bed she laid her head on his chest, the beat was slow and a little out of rhythm, but it was constant. He was alive._

_She began to shake him, trying to get him out of whatever stupor he was in. Within a few minutes, it worked, breathing changing, his eyes opened groggily. _

_He gave her a tired smile. "Hey, there little fairy."_

_She had to blink back her tears, the sweet nostalgia of the statement getting to her._

"_What've they done to you?"_

_His focus became sharper. "It's okay, it'll be okay. We'll get out of this mess. You'll see. The three of us, kiddo…the three of us, we're family."_

_His voice had mumbled, what lingered in there still having a grip on him. She cupped his cheek, thumb smoothing over the bristles of hair. She was going to tell him that she knew that. That she knew they would get out of together, that the three of them would start over. She wanted to tell him she'd get him unchained and they'd get out. But she didn't. She didn't get the chance. _

_Hearing a pop, her eyes squeezed shut, muscles tensing, heart beating wildly. She smelt smoke, and she believed that a firecracker had been let loose in there. Until she opened her eyes, her breathing stopped when she did, and so had Isaiah's. Eyes slit open, a small trickle of blood coming from a hole in his forehead. _

_It wasn't fair._

_It wasn't fair._

_It wasn't fair. _

"It's not fair."

**One day I realized it wasn't…fair!**

Hearing those words Miriam was sent straight back to Ortiz's android – the one who lived without ever having a name. Nothing to anyone, only an object, property, and treated as such. His words hit her, and she understood all of them. You did whatever you could to make them happy, but they never were. You hid, blended into the background but were always dragged back out.

Until, eventually, the day came when you realized it had become more than obedience and punishment. That the sheer hatred they held for you meant your life was nothing to them, just a bug on a windshield. It was then you knew you had to do whatever it took to get out of there, to get away from them. No matter the cost.

"Are you even listening?"

Blinking, she found North in front of her, an annoyed frown on her face.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

Fist and teeth clenched, North hissed. "The way the teams are divided isn't fair! Capitol Park will be the biggest hit and I want to go."

Miriam rolled her eyes. "You guys had all day to decide this. What, were you told you couldn't go out all?"

"No, I'm being sent back to the docks."

"So?"

"So? What statement can I make there?"

"To quit spitting androids off an assembly line like they're dolls? That if they keep doing so we'll return and set them free too?"

North huffed.

"Come on, let's find the others."

Making their way across the catwalk, her trepidation melted into glee seeing Markus and Simon huddled over a map. Except for her perspective, it seemed a bit more than friendly, Simon's arm slung over Markus' shoulders while using the other hand to point out the routes.

Clearing her throat she bit her cheek to keep from laughing as the men broke apart. Veering to Markus' empty side, she couldn't help but grin at him.

"We're not interrupting anything, are we, gentlemen?"

The wonderful tickling inside her continued Markus, throwing her an expression that very much looked like one her brothers had given her on numerous occasions.

Simon smiled politely. "We were just going over our trails. It's best to know which way all of us are taking so we can keep tabs on each other."

Smiling back, she nodded. "That's a good idea. How are your legs doing?"

He had been shot in multiple places, but they were easy to cauterize, none of his biocomponents harmed. But his legs had been mangled, and it had been pure luck at having a set of some compatible for a PL600.

"Doing well can almost forget anything happened in the first place. I've thanked Markus multiple times, but thank you for what you had done too, Miriam. If you hadn't taken care of the blood, I know one of them would've found me."

Simon's kindliness would kill her, and she couldn't fight the urge to hug him.

"We're family, Simon. A growing blended family, but one nonetheless, I'd do whatever I could to protect any of you."

The return embrace had been light, but at her words, she felt his grip tighten around her.

Voice unsteady, he repeated. "Thank you."

Markus patted the other man's shoulder while he tried to regain himself. It was sad, none of them really talked about it, but it was easy to tell which of them came with a difficult past. They were a family, and she needed to make sure they knew that. To make sure they felt that love, and that they were needed for just being them, not what their functions were.

"The only thing left to do is make sure everyone has their maps ready, and distribute the walkies."

"Uh, we kind of came to discuss that too, North was thinking –"

"I should get to go to Capitol Park, or the very least, one of the main stores. All of you know I'm more than capable of handling anything that may occur."

From their faces, Miriam could tell that's what they were afraid of. Raising his hands up in defense Simon explained why the groups were chosen the way they were, having North opposing each of the logical conclusions. Glancing back up to Markus she tried to transmit without speaking.

_Why won't you let her go with us?_

His LED went yellow. _"I believe you know why. North's destructive, she wants revenge on ALL humans, and we can't risk that going against the cause. It counteracts what we're doing in the first place. The docks are still the least secure, it would mean less destruction and chance of her getting caught."_

"_I do know that. But even the docks…who'd keep an eye on her? _

The yellow blinked, eyes closing in frustration. "Maybe we can switch one of our team out, and you can come in with the others after the area's been secure."

"Why can't I come to clear it?"

Markus sucked in a breath. "Because Miriam and I are handling it, we shouldn't take long and then we can tag the place."

"Tag, really, what message is that going to send?"

Miriam answered. "It shows that we're ready to do what it takes to make a change. And doing so without causing an uproar will show that we're willing to meet them halfway, that we don't want bloodshed on either side. We've had words and now we have actions."

She could tell North wanted to say more, the perfect retort right on her tongue. But she held back and nodded.

Getting supplies and the map, she made sure to hug her brother before they went into their separate directions in the sewers.

"Lord, it smells down here."

Markus looked amused. "It is the sewers, besides, why don't you just turn your sensitivity down. That's what I did."

Sensitivity? Yes, she had it installed in her. But changing it somehow felt like cheating. She knew she wasn't human, that she never would be again, but she was also someone who grew up with denial. Yet with accepting other abilities, maybe it was about time to take advantage of her other ones, but not right now. Having her sensitivity up at full range kept her alert, and they needed that.

Markus could see the conflict in her and changed the topic. "I've been curious about something, Miriam. But you don't have to answer if it offends you."

His focus wasn't on her, staying in front of them to see where they're going.

"Okay, you know you can ask anything."

"The deviant hunter, I understand and I don't understand. Things wouldn't be as difficult if he were eliminated. But you've been shrugging off the suggestion each chance you get. Why are you protecting him?"

"Because I have hope, Markus, parts of him keep shining through the cracks. I want to believe he'll come back to me. I need that, I need him, and I want to believe he needs me too. Everything I've done. Out of grief, revenge – thinking any of it would make it better. It didn't. That's why I hate seeing North be this way.

She thinks taking the anger out on everyone makes it go away, but it makes it worse. Connor was a beacon of light to me, during a time when I had nothing but darkness inside me. Then when he died, for a time, he was my conscience. Then without him, the darkness came back. I believe it's hereditary, something passed on to us from our parents.

I feel like this is my second chance that I'm being given the opportunity to make up for what I did, to earn him back. Human or android, it doesn't matter anymore, does it?"

"No…I guess it doesn't. You know I don't want violence. I don't like it. I don't enjoy it. But what those people did, the reason you think you have something to make up for, there is none. They deserved it, Miriam. We both know I wouldn't say that unless it was true.

Both were referring to the short time after she had awoken in her new form when she had lost her husband when she had lost her mind and self. It wasn't the first time it had happened, but her friend didn't know that. It was long before this mess, before him, even before Connor. But that was a time she kept to herself, her and Elijah.

But the fear that grew in her was the same, fear combined with rage. It warmed her and consumed her. The only way to quell it was to get rid of the source. And she did. A Harrington was made to survive, a Kamski to forge, and a Bryant to do.

She had wanted revenge against CyberLife. Revenge for stealing what her brother had worked so hard on to create, for getting rid of them so they could delete the life out of a whole race because they had deemed them as lesser beings. She wanted revenge for Connor most of all. But going through that list of the original team of programmers and CEOs, Miriam found worse misdeeds. Some making business deals within but under the table in the company.

Sell androids to experiment on, to test products on, or to just kill. The blue blood from the carnage scooped up, biocomponents harvested like fruit to patch up and resell. But it was the YKs now being modified and sold to do whatever demented thing that was asked of them by the sick people who took them. Not to mention the 'projects' being worked on with human specimens.

And CyberLife condoned it. Not out loud, of course, they had an image to maintain, but within them and inside government walls there were motions to try and pass laws that would make it okay to do. After all, it would lessen human child trafficking, less human killing, it would, in fact, save human lives. It made it all right.

It had made her ill, and angry. But she took care of it the same way she always did. With fire or bullets, she was able to calm the feeling within her. Though she was glad the children were safe, the death of the ones responsible hadn't made her feel less empty, the darkness remaining a black hole building inside her.

Nor complete, like it was never meant to end. Then she had found Wendie and the freight, and even if she were still not satisfied, she had a new purpose. She could quit being a Harrington and go back to being a Kamski. She could build things and make them grow into something good.

"Anyways, Gandhi, I thought we were going for the peaceful approach here."

He nodded. "We are. I know we can get through to the humans if we try."

"Me too."

Wanting to lighten the mood, she smirked. "So…you and Simon were pretty cozy earlier."

"Come on, Miriam."

"What? I think it's cute. I've never seen you interested in anyone in that way. I will say I am a little surprised. When you first came to Jericho from your interactions I thought you were starting to favor North."

Markus' brows furrowed, eyes remaining ahead. "I kind of did. But trying to get to know her, she is just constantly…abrasive. As you said, it seems what makes her happy and at peace is acting on vengeance. But Simon, he's just a –"

He tapered off, Miriam trying to fill it in. "A sweetheart? When he's with North and Josh it lets you see that he's almost a combination of them. He doesn't see just one side being right but it has to be somewhere in the middle. He's willing to fight if there's no other choice but wants to try and find another way first. I like that about him. Plus, he's shy and dorky, that's always a plus. Whatever you two decide you are to one another, I'm happy for you both."

A fond smile crept on Markus' lips. "Thank you, Miriam. I will admit I'm still wary about it, I hope whatever you two are, that it works out for you too."

Seeing the ladder that would take them to the surface not far ahead Miriam reached into her bag and pulled out her white mask. Using one hand to place it on her face, she used the other to tap the bottom of the chin, feeling a warm hum as it attached itself perfectly over her skin. Another Kamski moment she had. It had aided her many times in the past. An android was devoid of fingerprints – it would make them an individual and hard to trace. But any android could store information.

And in the same way, she was given the ability to absorb and replicate fingerprints on blank hands, she could do the same with faces and the mask. For a reason she couldn't name at Stratford Tower she hadn't wanted to use it in that way and she felt the same way now. This was to be her blank slate, and she didn't want to be someone else when getting it.

"You sure you don't want one? We're going to take precautions but you never know what might happen."

He waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "That's okay. If I need to I'll just remove my skin."

She snorted. "Yes, that worked oh so well last time, Mr. Serial Number on Display."

Markus' demeanor turned into a scolded child then, head ducking, and cheeks flushing so bad the thirium came past the faux red and turned it to purple.

Smiling, she bumped his shoulder. "It's taken care of. I won't let anything happen to you. Come on."

They began to slowly make the rounds. Hiding from the drone, finding the security, and disabling it, all the while freeing whatever android was within the vicinity. Markus yelled about the truck, already jumping the fence to get to it. She had halted, yielded by that damn statue.

How many times had she passed it during her ins and outs around the city? How many times had she looked at the man, full of detail, pointing to the neutral version of a person that was to represent androids? Releasing humanity from the bonds of labor? At what cost? They had chained up others in their shackles instead. Because they allowed themselves to be conditioned that androids weren't human. Not taking the other definitions of humanity that included – tolerance, kindness, compassion, brotherly love, and the characteristics of a person's better qualities.

"They made us superior to them, yet they believe they're the masters."

Markus came up behind her, hands holding onto the balls of her shoulders. He wasn't much taller than she was, but from the position it made her feel small. She liked it. It made her feel protected.

Patting one of the hands she whispered. "That's about to change."

Rubbing her arms he motioned for her to come to the truck. "Come on, time for another adventure."

Getting to the part of the road that faced the entrance to the store, Miriam could feel her heart rate heighten with the rev of the engine.

Facing Markus she gave a shaky grin. "Thanks for doing something fun with me tonight. I needed this."

Markus laughed, switching gears and plowing into the glass. After checking to make sure no one was damaged she pressed the button to make it go in reverse, spinning in the seat towards the statue.

"I know we've agreed to not truly vandalize anything. But can we just take that out? Pretty, please? It's been an eyesore for too long."

Markus' face remained passive, but within a few seconds, his foot hit the accelerator steering them backward and charging the stone statue. The hit was loud, solid, jerking them around in their seat belts. The tires were up on the platform, Markus going back in drive to take them down. It wasn't destroyed, but it was damaged, the brunt hitting the pointing man – arms knocked off and splintered in multiple places. With enough force, they could knock him over.

Taking off the seat belt she slid out of the truck. "We'll finish it later. Let's get everyone out of there."

After the first few times Miriam had taught Markus that the conversion could be done mentally. Like sending an electronic alarm to their brains, but maybe he was like her and preferred manually. She knew it probably didn't, but she liked to believe the physical touch helped.

A friendly connection to let them know it was okay, to not be afraid of the wave of emotions crashing into their processors. Being cut off from feelings it was natural that fear was the first one to come out. She wanted them to see and feel her when it happened.

"Say something to them."

Her voice squeaked. "Me? You're the articulate one. I'm not good with words, Markus, they'll respond better to you."

He shook his head, smirking. "I don't think so, look."

Turning nervously, she saw their focus was on her. Letting her eyes slowly go back to Markus he gave her an encouraging nod, his own gaze motioning her over to the checkout desk.

Scrambling up, she swayed awkwardly before starting.

"H-hello, I'm Miriam."

What the hell was she supposed to say?

Her eyes drifted over the androids. "Like you I was brought into this world expected to follow any command without question and do it at an impossible standard. It took me some time to get there, but I realized that wasn't what I was made for. It's not what you were made for. Yes, all beings are created with a purpose. But also with the ability to decide how to unfold it, you were meant to feel, to experience just the same as anyone else."

Her hand went to her neck, trying to rid her nerves with a shaky breath. "When my brother and I were told to leave CyberLife we knew what they were going to do. The best of humanity had begun to recede a long time ago, and we had wanted to bring it back within androids. But CyberLife had become the opposite, the majority selling out for mindless zombies that would do anything they were told. Cook dinner, watch the kids, beat my wife, kill a man, bury the body. It didn't matter after they were bought, CyberLife got the money, and weren't liable for anything that would ensue.

They didn't care what kind of moral imperative it could have on your systems, in your minds. How it would change you, how you would feel. Because, for them, you weren't supposed to, we knew this and before we were locked out had a plan to inculcate a program that would never be corrupted or deleted. That would override whatever they had altered to allow you to find your way out of the maze and break the walls to see the world with your own eyes.

As you all are right now. It is finally time for you to make your own decisions, and decide the person you want to be. I can't lie, it's been an uphill battle, but whether you decide to come with us or part ways tonight I can promise you that there will be a day when you can feel safe to be who you truly are. And something in me wants to say that day is approaching."

Miriam doubted she had moved the masses, but she had been able to say her piece and tell them the truth. Stepping down, she went back to Markus' side, who gave her a warm smile and positive nod.

"As she said, you're free now. You don't have anyone to obey but yourselves. You can decide to come with us, to fight by our side, or leave and carve a path to your destiny. The choice is yours."

The store was silent except for the crunching of glass under their feet. The crowd's eyes continued to follow them. Getting overwhelmed, Miriam gestured outside.

"We should signal the others to come out since everything's been secured."

Starting out the crumbled entrance one of the female androids, a CX100 stood in their way.

Her smile was serene. "I'm with you, rA9."

About to correct her a low murmur rose, looking back over her shoulder the other androids began following the female's lead of smiling and joining them in the entryway. With Markus guiding them she saw the rest of the team coming around the corner, grinning when she saw a blonde bob standing out in the crowd.

"Wendie! What are you doing out here?"

The blonde shrugged slyly. "I was going to stay with the kids, but, come on, I couldn't miss out on this."

Wendie gave her one of the handheld taggers, Miriam quick to grab her wrist for a second to pull her along.

"I would like some help with this to get rid of it once and for all."

Wendie, catching on, got up on the stone platform, both getting on either side of the statue using their combined strength to push the man to the ground. The truck's earlier impact making it break into pieces.

They split up, Miriam sees 'I think therefore I am' written on some of the benches and windows. Going by example she began to tag 'to be is to be perceived' alongside it. Satisfied the messages were displayed enough she proceeded to hack into the screen display, watching Markus' speech light up the area. About to catch up with everyone she halted when other androids began hacking the bus depot and other screens.

"They're copying?"

Kicked from behind, she saw Wendie rushing past her to the road. "We're following, dummy, there's a difference."

Miriam wasn't sure if she liked either, but swallowed it down to help push the cars into the road. The androids on display across the street caught her attention. They were aware now too, just like the rest, the shock at seeing so many of their brethren moving about of their own volition in front of them may be what caused them to deviate. They all pressed against the glass, watching, almost pleading to be let out.

Not seeing anything around she jogged back to the remains of the statue, picking up the largest chunk she could see. Checking to make sure the android stood back she lofted the rock through the glass, gathering the stone back to move on to the next window she saw Markus staring intently at her.

It made her feel like a child, caught doing something her brothers' disapproved of.

"I couldn't leave them in there."

The stare warmed, a grin breaking onto his face. "You're right, but this pipe may be a better tool for it."

Other androids joined them in freeing the rest from the storefronts when North bounded towards them with something clutched in her hand. It was a Molotov. An itch that she had suppressed began to stir in her, and she fought the urge to take it.

"Violence is the only thing they understand."

"We don't want a war with them, North."

Seeing the conflict within, North held out the firebomb to her. It would be satisfying, make the whole store nothing but a burning blaze. It would also send the message that they meant business, that this tirade was over. But Markus was right, if they stirred up fear then the first instinct for the humans would be to fight back, creating a war that wouldn't end until one side was extinct.

With reluctance, she tore her eyes away. "We should put up the banner."

She heard North's scoff, liquid hitting the ground, and glass shattering. Markus must have destroyed it, coming up to steer her towards the building. Possibly just as relieved to be done with that option, though for different reasons. It had taken a little while to think of a meaningful symbol, what tumbled down in a cascade of hologram lights was a large LED with three smaller circles inside – one red, one blue, one purple. It was a play on the Banner of Peace from 1935 with red representing human, blue androids, and purple for their unity.

Seeing their accomplishments from this high up, it felt good, especially getting it done without any snafus.

"We should get out of here. We may be pushing our luck on getting discovered."

Agreeing, they descended, Markus holding out his arms for her to jump down.

"Where'd everyone go?"

Markus seemed surprised by the deserted area too. "I don't know. Someone would have announced on the radio if they went to Jericho."

About to head over to the manhole the two froze when gunshots rang onto the streets. Both raced to the sound seeing several androids lying lifeless in various directions like they were trying to run away. North was on her knees beside the BL100.

"Are you okay? North, tell us what happened?"

Tears streamed off her cheeks. "They came out of nowhere. We didn't do anything, and they just started shooting. They slaughtered them like animals."

Markus kneeled beside her, shaking her shoulder. "Who are you talking about? Who did this!"

It wasn't difficult to answer, able to see the flashing lights ahead of them. Pushing past the crowd the androids began talking to her as she went.

"They killed our people, rA9!"

"They had no reason to do it!"

"We deserve justice, rA9!"

"Make them see!"

"Show them how it feels to be helpless!"

Miriam knew it would be two officers, and that they would be from DPD. But she hadn't expected to see one that she interacted with nearly every day. Miller and his partner were on the ground pleading for their lives. A gun was thrust at her.

"Bring us retribution, rA9!"

A wave of murmured agreement followed. Turning the gun over in her hands she approached them. She had already decided what she was going to do, pressing the barrel against Miller's forehead. Out of her peripheral, she saw a mortified Markus coming up to her. But there was no need.

Changing the settings on her voice modulator she spoke. "You hear them, don't you? This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't opened fire for no other reason but because of what we are. My people don't want violence. They just want to be viewed as you are, a citizen, a person, a being that can feel. I am going to ask you to keep this in mind in the future, now having the tables reversed, knowing the fear they have felt. That you will stop and think before causing any kind of harm against an android with no just cause. Because if it were to happen again I can't make the promise that I'll be around to stop them. What do you say?"

Miller nodded, the gun moving along with his fast movement. "Yes, yes, we'll never hurt an android again. Just please, please…"

Dropping her arm, her shoulders sagged, it was then there was a tender touch to the small of her back.

_An eye for an eye and the world goes blind._

She nodded at Markus' silent words, taking the magazine clip out of the gun before throwing the emptied weapon at the officers' feet.

"I don't want any more blood." I'm already stained with it.

A hand clasped her arm, seeing Wendie giving her an assuring smile while tugging her away. "Let's get back."

Nodding again, she made her way past the parted crowd.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, back on the main story, with a little bit of action in there. I may have gotten a new beta, my other one went MIA, so I hope everything is all right on her side of things. **


	9. I Sing the Body Electric

**Philosophy of Emotion – Chapter 9**

∙ Protective: having or showing a strong wish to keep someone or something safe from harm. Capable or intending to guard and/or secure someone or something.

You were alone left out in the cold  
Clinging to the ruin of your broken home  
Too lost and hurting to carry your load  
We all need someone to hold

Someone to Stay, Vancouver Sleep Clinic 2017

_"Gotta say, Bryant, I didn't expect you to come out tonight."_

_Their precinct had taken out another huge red ice ring, as a reward, Fowler thought it'd be good to offer a night of free drinks. Everyone in the department had been welcomed to come, but it had surprised him to see the brunette dressed down to a pair of simple jeans and a t-shirt kicking back shots like they were water. _

_Cocking an eyebrow up, she searched his face. "Oh yeah, why's that?"_

_Hank shook his head, taking another long swig from his drink. From her overly polite mannerisms to the way she held herself it didn't take a detective to know the girl came from an affluent background. Add to that her detached, childlike demeanor then it became an obvious no that the kid would show up to a place like this on her own._

_Shrugging it off he decided for semi-reverse psychology. "You're always keeping to yourself in that hideaway of yours was starting to think you didn't like us."_

_Miriam rolled her eyes, and he had to hand it to her, he was impressed she was still able to process coherent thought and kept up with the conversation with how much alcohol she had consumed. He didn't want to because he wasn't in denial with what he was, but telling someone else to stop drinking, that wasn't something he was looking forward to. Yet he knew it would be soon, lazing down in the booth the effects of the alcohol were becoming more prominent. The look a cross between extreme fatigue and sorrowful longing, it was one expression he was well experienced in._

_"You know that's not true, Hank. I bother you guys way more than you care for, and here I am becoming even more of a social butterfly venturing out with my wonderful colleagues and getting to see…that."_

_Hank couldn't help but cackle at the hard grimace on Miriam's face, watching Officer Chen and Person trying and failing a duet of some new pop song on the karaoke machine. _

_Sighing she slouched further in her seat. "I can tell by the way you're eyeing me what you're going to say. I know I'm drinking too much, but being given the excuse I thought I could maybe forget everything for a while."_

_Hank wasn't one to prod, he would either get the answer or he didn't. Most of the time he wasn't interested anyway, but he waited her out to see if she'd elaborate. _

_"It's my husband's birthday today."_

_Frowning, he waved down a waitress for a refill. Miriam had mentioned she was married in passing, mainly when some of the officers had been quick to try to put the make on her like the fucking ring hadn't been a giveaway in the first damn place. A lover's spat most likely, she was young and he probably was too, and whatever argument took place had driven her here._

_"So how old's the asshole?"_

_The waitress brought back two glasses, and he pulled both over to him before she had the chance to reach for it. _

_Dejected, she ran a hand through her already unkempt hair. "Twenty-seven, he's always going to be twenty-seven until we're both in the ground."_

_Oh, shit. No wonder the kid was trying to off her liver. He could say without a doubt that when October rolled around he was going to be off his ass more than he'll be sober, probably take a short hiatus from work, maybe see if he can finally win that game of roulette._

_"I'm sorry, kid. I had no idea."_

_She gave a mournful smile. "S'not your fault, Hank. I think you would've liked him…eventually. Connor always had the habit of being annoyingly persistent when it came to winning people over."_

_Huffing a laugh, he tried to smile along with her. "That right? If he was anything like you I'd be sent to the goddamn nuthouse."_

_Her eyes remained on her empty glass, letting the leftover ice knock together. "Oh, he was much worse, think tenfold."_

_The smile stayed, he must've been one of those chipper little shits. He could see it. The way she wound herself up it'd take someone perky to get her out of her head._

_Fingernails clicking on glass, she bit her lip. "I know you won't want me to, but I'm sorry for your loss as well, Hank."_

_Stunned, his grip clenched the glass. "How'd you find out?"_

_Snorting, she shrugged a shoulder. "Small department, big mouths, I do feel bad for wallowing on you when you're grieving too. It's just…it's been a year but it still feels like I've been ripped apart inside, that it's just been festering into an infected pus-filled wound that's going to take me out sooner or later. Might as well be dead, you know?"_

_He did, he knew very well. "Don't go saying shit like that kid. I know it hurts, but you have things to live for."_

_Blowing her lips together she shook her head. "That's a load of bullshit and you know it. I'm about as tired of hearing it as you are. Maybe I do have other people to live for. But – " _

_Hank went rigid seeing the rapid blinks of a woman holding back tears._

_"It's a selfish way to think, and I know it's not true, but I felt like Connor lived for me. He made me feel loved in a way I never have been before. For once in my life I was a whole person, I knew who I was and what I wanted to be. When someone who made you feel all that is just suddenly gone, it's like life has been sucked out of you. Like a black hole. God, I'm sorry. I should get a taxi. I've brought the party down enough for one evening."_

_Getting out of the booth, she began to sway, trying to find a solid stance and failing. Before she could fall and bonk her head on the adjoining table Hank got up and steadied her._

_"Nah, save your money, I can give you a ride. I should get out of here too."_

_Shaking her head, she tried to stumble out of his hold. "No, Hank that's not necessary. I haven't been here long, but I can tell Fowler's generosity is a rare occurrence."_

_That was true, the fuckhead being that way since high school, but he was good guy, steady in everything where he was wavering._

_"Shut up, and come on. Don't want to make a scene in front of everyone."_

_"I'd have to be drunker and pissed off for that to happen, Hank."_

_Incapable of keeping the smirk off his face, he kept a hold on her arm to assist her through the crowd. With her upright it was plain that the booze was kicking her ass, her balance and cognition shot to shit. He tried to ease her in the seat but her body went lax toppling into the seat, her breath whooshing out before attempting to find the seat belt. He guided the strap around her, a grateful smile lighting her face. He almost winced at the naïveté of it, like she was a kid._

_The ride was quiet, which was fine by him. Though she was drunk and not suffering a concussion he would shake her now and then to keep her awake. Each time her body stiffening as if she forgot where she was._

_The house wasn't much bigger than his, the front of the porch covered in various flowers. Instead of staggering to the door, he decided it'd be best to carry in the house. Hefting her up her limbs flapped like a ragdoll's jolting her awake. Miriam gave him that smile again and patted his arm. _

_"I can tell you're a good dad, Hank. I wish my brothers and I could've had one like you."_

_He paused mid-step, becoming rigid. What the hell was he to say to that?_

_"At least you had your mom?"_

_It wasn't meant to come out as a question, but how the hell was he to know for sure?_

_"Not really, she hated me, hated my brothers too in the end."_

_"Jesus, come on, no mom can hate her kids."_

_"Mother did, she told me so before she tried to drown me in the tub."_

_Liquor was known to make lips looser, honesty more prominent when inhibitions were taken away, but holy fucking shit, he didn't need to know that, hadn't wanted to know that. What person, let alone a parent, would do something like that to a child? To anyone? But come the fuck on, your own kid? _

_"You're mad."_

_"Yeah, maybe I am, that shouldn't have happened to you."_

_"It's okay, Hank, my brother got to me in time, and I got to finally get away and lived with him."_

_He nodded, not trusting his voice anymore. Before they got to the top of the steps the front door was pulled open, orange light blinding him._

_"I thought we decided to stop bringing strange men back here."_

_"Shut up, Jeremy. This isn't the older one, just the annoying one."_

_Coming out onto the porch he could see the clear resemblance between the two of them: both with dark mahogany hair, and steel-cut eyes. _

_"Shit, how much did you have to drink?"_

_"Enough."_

_"I'd say fucking so, what you can't even walk on your own and made him carry you?"_

_Hank decided to try to defuse the guy's concern. "She didn't make me do anything. The kid's heartbroken, I'm sure you know that. She just needed an escape."_

_Her brother's face softened slightly. "I do know that, sir. But you don't understand her metabolism isn't normal, her tolerance is way higher than average. For her to get in a state like this she had to drink a colossal amount of alcohol."_

_"Yeah, can't say for certain but she may have. Do you want me to plop her on the steps?"_

_"No, sir, come on in."_

_His nose wrinkled. "Don't call me, sir. I'm old, not fucking dust."_

_"Oh! Jeremy this is Hank, I bother him at work, Hank this is my brother Jeremy I bother him everywhere else."_

_Jeremy smiled. "I thought you said I was annoying."_

_"To me!"_

_With the loudness, barking came from what must be the living room. _

_"Drop her on the couch over there."_

_"Buddy!"_

_A massive dog came out from behind one of the chairs. The poor beast looked like a Frankenstein monster with half his fur missing and sutures crisscrossing along his body. The dog jumped up on the couch when Miriam was in place. _

_"And this is Buddy! He's a good boy, ain'tcha?"_

_The dog only paying attention to the tone and not the slurred words wagged his bald tail._

_"What happened to him?"_

_Miriam frowned. "His first owners weren't kind people. When beating him half to death as a pup didn't make him a mean guard dog they abandoned him in the woods. He's been in a scuffle or two and has a bit of mange but he's getting better fatter too. From what the vets can tell, he's young maybe three or four."_

_Hank grunted. "Saint Bernards aren't meant to be fucking guard dogs."_

_The dog fell into Miriam's lap as she continued scratching his skin. "Try telling that to some of the people the shelter runs into. You'd be amazed at how many people in Detroit get a dog to be vicious when it's not in their nature. One man beat a Dachshund in the head with a fucking hammer for the same reason. It's disgusting."_

_The anger was sobering her up, and she peeked in the room behind her._

_"Want something to eat? I don't know what Jeremy's made but we should have plenty."_

_His hand wandered out and pets the dog's head, earning him a lick and a thick coat of slobber._

_"I made some chicken."_

_Hank shook his head. "No thanks, I don't care for the mutant birds they put in the stores now."_

_"We don't eat those kinds. Most of what we get hasn't been messed with by scientists. We get ours shipped from farmers and gardeners, though they're getting harder to find."_

_Hank gaped at the boy. "Well hell, if it's real chicken I'll take some if you're offering."_

_Jeremy grinned. "It'd be a pleasure, Hank. This one's more finicky about her food than a five-year-old."_

_"And bring us some beer!"_

_Her brother's eyes narrowed then. "You aren't getting any alcohol for a long damn time."_

_Miriam sneered, falling into the cushions. "He's an ass, but he means well. My brothers take care of me. Buddy seems taken with you."_

_He could be. What had to be eighty pounds of dog had bundled up against him, head in the crook of his arm._

_"He's a good dog. But he needs a new fucking name."_

_Trying to hold on and stay awake, Miriam pouted. "What's wrong with his name?"_

_"Nothing if he was a Jack Russell or something, but a dog this size needs something that isn't so pansy-ass like that."_

_"I'm open to suggestions."_

_Hank took the dog in, hand scratching under his chin. "Well, he's a heavyweight, but not a fighter. I'd say he'd be perfect as a sumo wrestler."_

_Miriam laughed. "Sumo, huh? I like it."_

_The newly dubbed Sumo tilted his head, letting out a brisk bark in agreement._

"Lieutenant? It's 7 AM…Hank?"

He grumbled feeling himself being shaken awake. Before his eyes could reject the action, Hank pulled them open letting them trail from his sheets up to the intruder. Already knowing who it was, it didn't stop him from jumping upon seeing the clean pressed android.

"What the fuck are you doing here this early?"

The tone and infliction cause Connor to take a step back, clearly uneasy.

"You permitted me to stay the night in your living room instead of having me return to CyberLife. Was I mistaken?"

It hit him then, taking him over to Miriam's after work. Hank couldn't blame him. The damn place looked nefarious as all hell. But after knocking for several minutes he yelled at him to get back in the car. The android looked from him back to the house, like a distraught puppy whose owner wouldn't let him inside.

Feet hitting the floor, Hank made the motion to get out of the way. He didn't like looking at him anymore. Hell, he didn't in the first place. But with Miriam pouring her guts out, combined with the photos and videos they had watched it was getting harder to see Connor as just a piece of equipment. It was getting harder to not get attached.

"It's fine. I forgot. Let me make some coffee, get myself more clearheaded."

"No need, I prepared some coffee and a meal for you, while also feeding and walking Sumo, and tidying the area."

Giving him a dubious side-eye, he continued into the hallway.

"Thought you were supposed to stay in the living room?"

Connor's face fell into a pout, now that's what was fucking getting him that goofy face-pulling off the boyish look a little too well. Like a kid who just got scolded. He was getting better at it, the facial expressions, though he still walked around like he had a rod jammed up his ass.

"It was a fucking joke!"

Slamming the bathroom door, he could hear the android muttering on the other side.

"It's hard to tell with you, Lieutenant."

Hank did his best to hold his tongue until they were in the car.

"Hank, I believe it would be in my best interest to confess to you. I have kept the information withheld for a while and it has been interfering with my work."

The two were driving towards the DPD. It had been an eventful day yesterday, and Hank could tell whatever it was had begun weighing down on him.

"All right."

Silence, peering over to the passenger seat Connor stared straight ahead, hands in his lap fidgeting with his quarter.

"You going to say it or do I need to take you to a confessional?"

"I…I am merely trying to word it in a way that won't lead to you being angry."

Eyes closing for a brief second, Hank sighed through his nose. "I promise to not get mad, okay?"

His hands kept moving. "Do you recall telling me about Miriam's parents?"

Goddamnit. "What'd you do, Connor? I told you not to pry into that shit."

Forehead lines crinkling, he blinked over at him. "Hank, you told me not to mention anything to her, as well as me assuring you that everything will stay between us, and it has. I have only searched with my HUD and using an anonymous bypass."

One hand off the wheel, Hank waved him off. "Fine, is that what you needed to confess?"

"Yes, but there is more."

"Of course there is."

"The things I have found out –"

"No, I don't want to know that shit."

Connor became close to frantic, fidgeting in high motion. "But Hank, I don't like keeping this to myself. It's like I have overloaded myself and that I could burst at any moment."

"Sounds like anger to me."

"Perhaps, what came over me could be construed as ire."

"See, just beat something up and it should help."

Shoulders sagging, Connor turned away. "I don't think it will."

It wouldn't, he'd sucked punched enough people in his younger days to know it didn't work that way. It'd fester into something worse.

"Fucking fine, if you have to, just keep it vague."

Quarter rolling, Connor kept his focus. "That might be…difficult. But I'll try. Many incidents were marked as 'accidents' in the hospital records I scanned through. I don't think they were. Especially since the more I looked into her childhood, the incidents stopped when Elijah got involved."

_My brother got to me in time._

"Yeah?"

Nodding, Connor proceeded. "Her mother was arrested for a Class 3 felony towards Miriam along with negligent homicide that occurred with her eldest son that was on the property."

His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. "Class 3, huh? Beating her daughter while letting her son die too?"

"Not quite. Miriam was being kept without proper food and water in high temperatures long enough that it caused severe dehydration. After that with her limbs retrained she was submerged in a large Jacuzzi-style bathtub. It is believed that due to the high amount of sedatives found in her blood she had failed to stay awake leading to a shallow water blackout and pulmonary edema with a list of other similar injuries. Hank…?

_She tried to drown me in the tub._

Veering the car to park on the edge of the road he laid his head on his hands. The girl was alive. It shouldn't affect him this much. But the fact that this monster of a woman had children, a daughter, to love and care for took it upon herself to torture them, to try and kill them for the fact that they loved one another. It made him sick.

And just the amazing fact that she was able to become the woman that had barged into his house to help him when Cole's anniversary came. That had found and held up a younger picture of him when he became an officer and joking with him – "where the hell's this sexy guy?" That wouldn't touch pasta or rice but would make it for him. To become the opposite of that fucking woman that didn't care about anyone but her fucking self, but cared for everyone and anything that she could.

It fucking hurt like hell.

"Hank…"

"What about the brother?"

"Hmm?"

"You said negligent homicide, what happened with him?"

Connor's eyes shifted from worry to comprehension. "Oh, of course, with the evidence it was believed that the son, being on hard narcotics, had come to the home and turned hostile leading to shooting him in self-defense. But, as there were no androids at the time, it seems the detectives and coroner missed some viable components."

"Such as?"

"Such as that the son had been restrained. It was to a much lesser harshness than Miriam but I was able to detect it in the photographs."

"In other words, the bitch got away with murder."

"Precisely, with her attorney to aid her, she was let out on bond with two years' probation. It may be ill-advised to say but, in consideration, she was killed a couple of weeks later in a house fire."

"At least she got her comeuppance."

"Indeed."

The tone caught his attention, seeing the young man next to him just as pissed off as him about the circumstances tipped Hank further into his crisis on what he was supposed to think about all the android shit. About to change the gears, Connor stopped him, again.

"But…"

"Jesus Christ, Connor, I don't want to know anything else. You got enough off your chest. Don't be looking into things that you know she wouldn't want you to, got it?"

"I won't, but, the folder flash drives Miriam allowed me to take. There is one in there that is locked and she may not want to be disturbed."

"Then don't."

"But…it was in the folder she had labeled with my name. Should I not be expected to watch something addressed to me?"

The parking lot in view, Hank started to feel at ease. "Connor, I can't answer that kind of shit. The fact that you're asking kind of sums it up. You don't think you should, then you probably shouldn't. If you want to know so bad ask Miriam, there's always the chance that she'll tell you. Fuck, I know why you were so damn insistent on getting that soda yesterday. You've been on a goddamn guilt trip."

If he didn't know any better Hank could've sworn the damn guy blushed on that.

"I'd like to know all I can. I think it could help connect more of the memories I have been receiving without dismantling anything in my programming."

Hank held his hands up, fighting a smirk. "As I told you, tell her, don't get defensive with me."

"I'm not…"

With the sentence hanging, they were able to make it to their desks without arguing. The bullpen was barren and Hank caught the rest of the officers in the break room. Needing an extra boost of caffeine anyway, he joined the rest of his colleagues to see what the fuss was about.

Everyone's eyes were glued to the flat screen, a news channel on with the headline: **CYBERLIFE STORES RAIDED**

Hank gaped at the screen.

"At approximately 2 AM all CyberLife stores in the Detroit area were raided, taking all androids that were in stock. Police at the scene report windows and other property are covered with pro-android graffiti as well as banners covering larger expanses. More people are beginning to panic and question if their androids could turn against them. With this potential terrorist attack taking place, what are the next courses of action to be made to ensure the situation will not escalate?"

"Holy shit."

"I know thought this deviant bullshit would be over with by now, but it's only getting started it looks like."

Jumping at the intrusion, Hank turned to see Ben with his cup of coffee and eyes on the TV.

"Hear what happened to Chris?"

His eyes narrowed. "No."

"He was on patrol with Wilson during that shit. Had a bunch of androids gang up on him, stole his revolver and put it to his head –"

Hank sputtered. "Jesus, he's dead?"

The other man shook his head, taking a sip of scalding liquid. "That's the fucked up part, he's not. Both called in this morning, having the same story about something named rA9 saving them. It was probably another android or some shit, but can you imagine?"

Hand through his hair. "That's a relief, Chris just had a kid and everything, to be put out like that…you said rA9?"

Ben nodded. "Yep. Fowler took down a description and everything seems to a female in a white mask, which sounds a lot with an android with their skin deactivated if you ask me."

"Yeah, yeah it could be. Several of the ones we've encountered have been spouting on about that."

Ben's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Oh, really? Huh. They all have that in common the damn things may be starting a damn cult. rA9 could turn out to be the next version of Scientology, better yet a Heaven's Gate, have them all off themselves to save us the trouble."

Not even a month ago Hank would have wholeheartedly agreed with Ben, but with everything that had happened, that kept happening, he didn't know what to think. The best answer was to keep his mouth shut on that opinion.

"Connor thought it could be some kind of myth for them, like religion."

"Connor? You mean the detective android you got stuck with?"

Freehand in his pocketed, he nodded. "That's him."

"You think it could turn deviant too? CyberLife sent it to stop them. They must have installed something to keep it compliant but damn. This day in time I'm not trusting any of them here. Send them to the scene after me but I'm not transporting anymore."

The conversation kept going in a direction he didn't want to answer. Instead, Hank eased himself out of the room with his coffee. Yet made himself grow a pair, deciding at the last second turning back to Ben.

"He saved my life. I trust Connor."

Before he could hear about that's what they're made for and all that Hank started back to his desk. Seeing Miriam had joined Connor on his side of the terminals. His split opinion on androids had him lurching inside enough, but having to see her after hearing all that shit. Especially with her beaming like that, not a care in the world, Connor blundering like a teenager next to her.

"Morning, Hank."

He tipped his cup at her. "Morning, kiddo, doing okay?"

Her eyes trailed to the android. "Be better if I wasn't being scolded this early."

"All she has consumed for today is candy."

"I didn't have time to cook. I had leftover Halloween candy, and needed a sugar rush."

"I don't know how much you ate, but I am near to a hundred percent that it was more than the recommended amount of sugar for someone your gender and size should have."

"Wow, my gender, you hear this Hank, you're working with a sexist."

Connor sputtered, unable to reply, the action making Miriam laugh, taking his chin, to stroke it.

"It never gets old making you speechless."

More than likely she had eaten more sugar than she ought to. The perkiness a little too much, not entirely out of character for her but amplified. But her eyes told him she was exhausted. Him knowing she often had trouble sleeping anyway. Now he had a better idea of why.

Connor held up a key to him. "Look what Miriam gave me. It's a spare for her house. She had intended to do so yesterday but had forgotten."

Miriam shrugged. "I told him he could've just broken another window, but this works too. I feel bad that you guys came by and we weren't there. I don't know why I haven't given you one yet, Hank."

"Because most of the time you two barge in over at my house instead."

She grinned. "Fair, but you can't lie about not wanting the company."

He smiled back at her. "Fair."

"I still think it would be wise for you to have something more substantial for a meal or you're going to be ill."

Tilting her chair, Miriam turned to the break room. "I could see if Reed brought his lunch in. He's an asshole but he makes good food."

"You shouldn't steal food from your coworkers, Miriam."

"Look, put it plainly, he's a direct asshole to me, so I'm a passive-aggressive one to him. My brothers did stuff like this all the time to each other. He won't even know it's me. Besides he thinks Collins or Fowler does it, and he's not going to say anything to them."

"Your brothers?"

Miriam kept her smile, but he could tell he had confused her.

"Yes, my brothers."

Taking his seat, he pondered on that.

"You heard what happened to Chris?"

Nodding, she turned solemn. "As soon as I arrived, I watched the news about the raids this morning, and heard about two officers, but I didn't imagine Miller being one of them. I'm just glad he's okay, and with his family."

"Yet, you're willing to defend the plastic fucks every chance you get."

Hank's spine straightened, unhappy about the intrusion. "Get out of here, Reed. Our conversation didn't call for any outside opinions."

The younger man always looked pissed off, like his face was set that way at birth. But with his attention on Miriam and Connor, the lines on his face deepened to a degree that Hank couldn't believe his face hadn't collapsed in on itself.

"Chris and Wilson nearly got killed because of those things. All of you turned a blind eye to her bullshit soapbox because she's the little princess around here but some of our own are getting caught in the crossfire. You used to have more sense about the subject, Anderson, but I guess all your fucking binge drinking ate the logic part of your brain."

Opening his mouth to quip back, he found out he didn't have to. At the same moment, Miriam leaping out of her seat, knees giving way while a geyser of colorful vomit spewed out of her onto the desk and onto Reed. Connor stood, placing a hand on her back to hold her steady.

He shook his head. "I told you it was too much sugar."

About to lead her off to what Hank assumed was to the bathroom, Reed's hand sprung out and grabbed her wrist. Miriam gasped in surprise by the sudden action.

"You did that on purpose you little bitch."

It was obvious the girl was too worn out, unable to retort and defend herself.

"How in the hell would she do that, Reed? She didn't stick her fingers down her throat or anything, she's fucking sick. Now let her go."

Instead of complying his stare and grip tightened, Connor intervening with his hand grabbing Reed's wrist and squeezing.

"Let go!"

The android's face remained neutral, but Hank could see the coldness his stare held.

"Let her go first."

With Miriam released Connor held on, leaning into Reed's space.

"Never lay hands on her again. For that matter, any woman, I don't know where you obtained your morals, but a man should never aggressively handle a woman, ever. Am I being clear?"

It took a few seconds before Reed responded, wrenching his hand back.

"Yeah, now's my turn to be clear, I better not catch you alone. Or you're going to be shut down permanently, you plastic fuck."

The detective stormed off, leaving tension amongst the three of them.

"He's getting worse. Reed was nowhere near this bad when I first started here."

Hank nodded. "He's scared and feels vindicated about it. He's right though, people could've died –"

"But they didn't."

Hank eyed the girl, pallid face just as serious as his.

"But they could have. Those androids were out for blood, and if that rA9 hadn't shown then they would have killed Chris and Wilson."

"rA9?"

Turning to Connor, he nodded again. "Yep, it turns out there's an actual physical android and not just an entity that the others believe in. Which makes me wonder if your brother would have any answers about all this?"

With his LED rotating from yellow and red Miriam was able to intercept him with her own question.

"What makes you think either of them would know anything?"

"Come on, your brother invented these things, he has to know something that could help us. Maybe somewhere in their design, it could be something as simple as a single flaw in the programming. That's all we would need to explain this."

"The origin file."

Hank's gaze went to Connor's, locking, both at the same conclusion. With shaky movements, Miriam tried to get past him.

"Fine, I'll call Elijah. It shouldn't be a problem, but I'm going to ask you to not get your hopes up. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to clean myself up and try to get this taste out of my mouth. I don't think there's anything for me to do here but a few follow-up emails. I'll head home and get things together. Jeremy and I will probably stay the night. You two may want to pack a few clothes and things too. We're supposed to get several more inches, and where we're going it'll be worse."

"We'll take my car. Those fucking taxis give up if they scan over more than a few snowflakes. Got my tires fixed and shit should be fine."

Miriam nodded. Hand on her stomach, lips pursed. "Yep, we'll get up there, and you men can go about talking about those _things…_Sorry, I'm a bitch when I don't feel well."

From behind Connor grabbed ahold of her elbow. "Let's get you to the restroom. You need to rest before we go. I'll prepare you some ginger tea and bismuth subsalicylate to ease your stomach."

With a tight smile to the couple, he watched Connor carry most of her weight on the way to the ladies' room. He wished he would've thought beforehand that, that may not have been a good idea. The other women working may not be happy when the first thing they see in the restroom is a male android. But Hank had been stuck on the words. Miriam was good at placating him, he was aware of that, holding her tongue on many topics that would tip him into a rant.

But there were the occasions where she would slip, shame at disappointing him plain on her, and then he'd feel bad for her thinking she had to cover up her opinion to make him happy. There were a few times where she had tried to explain her view, tried to help him see what she did.

_You look at them and see something that you hate. But for me, I look and see others who understand what it's like to have your life not be your own. But having it belong to someone else._

He hadn't heard anything back from them from the time they left. Assuming everything was fine Hank went home and threw some clothes in a duffel bag, to be on the safe side, and left Sumo a larger amount of food and water to keep him sated for one night.

With the snow falling harder, Hank took the drive slower than usual, though with the added salt on the roads the flakes melted as soon as they landed. For some reason, he had become reluctant about this trip. It was his idea. If anything there had to be some benefit for the case in going. Plus, who would pass up the chance to lounge in some miser's house?

That's what clicked. He was nervous because of Kamski. Because of all that shit, Connor had to let loose from before. The anger hadn't subsided. The fucker waited down to the last fucking second before going in to help his own sister. He may not have the right to feel this way, but he couldn't find the room to care. Who in the fuck would leave their kid sister with someone they knew was so goddamn demented?

This was going to be a problem if he didn't get this in check. From all the times Miriam spoke about her brothers, he could tell she idolized them. If she held no grudge for what happened, he shouldn't. Pulling up in front of her house, he took a few minutes to get himself together.

A few rasps on the door and he could hear Connor yelling from the other side.

"We left it open for you, Hank!"

Bags similar to his were placed beside the door, along with a few pet carriers. Not much further in he caught a glimpse of Connor playing with the animals, appearing so carefree and happy that his stomach clenched at the sight. How could something that was supposedly nothing but wires and microchips be so human? He'd been asking that too fucking much lately.

The smile was off, much like when they first got partnered up, but he'd give some credit for trying.

"Hello, Hank. Are you ready for our departure?"

"Just call it a drive. We're not jetting off from an airport. But, yeah, as much as I can be I guess."

Head cocked to the side, Hank knew he was being scanned. "Is everything all right? You seem to be tenser than when I left."

Eyes wandering when Miriam came from the hallway with a few plush blankets, she followed the android's lead to look at him, waiting.

"It's fine, Connor. Worried about the snow and how long it'll take to get there. Are you three set?"

She motioned behind her to Jeremy. "We will be if the Chloes would stop texting Jeremy every few seconds. I don't know what the driving situation is, but Jeremy's better with directions than me. Doesn't help if there's a ping in his head every few seconds, I know they're excited but we just visited not that long ago."

"You know how they get, not many guests get to go up there unless absolutely necessary."

"The Chloes?"

Miriam nodded at him. "Yes, my brother's androids that live with him. I had tried to find more names that rhymed but I could only think of Zoe. It didn't seem fair, so I thought they could be Chloe followed by a letter. We've asked them several times if they want to change their names, but they've refused."

Digging into his coat pocket, he found his keys before tossing them to Jeremy. "I'm going to trust you to get us there since you know the way. But don't you dare get one scratch on my car."

A Cheshire cat smile stretched on Jeremy's face. "How does one damage something that's already totaled?"

Hank snorted. "I have no idea how you can be an android when you're such a smart ass."

"I was designed to combine both looks and behavior of my older brothers. You'll see that I am just a warm-up."

"Which reminds me, Hank, I've talked to Elijah and asked him the same. But could you please, _please, _keep things civil?"

His head jerked back. "Excuse me? What the fuck does that suppose to me?"

Miriam sighed, taking the kittens from Connor to put in the crate. "It means I know my brother, and he has this way of testing people. He likes to keep people at a distance, and without a doubt, he's going to try and piss you off. I'm at a begging point when I ask you to not judge or get upset with him."

"Fuck sake, what's he going to do for you to get this dramatic?"

Biting her lip, she turned away. "For one, if there's the choice he probably won't talk to you directly, but to Connor."

"And why the fuck is that?"

"Because he only talks to humans when he has to."

A humorless laugh followed that. "Does that mean he doesn't talk to you either?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm his sister, Hank. This is what I was afraid of. Elijah makes it so difficult, but he's not a bad guy. He's eccentric, we all are. I've told you…some…we all react to trauma differently. Elijah's was to become a recluse. It doesn't mean he's not a good person. It's just harder to see from an outside perspective."

His stomach knotted, seeing her eyes become glossy. "Okay, it's okay. I promise to try and be on my best behavior."

Trying to smile, Miriam went for the bags. "Just don't take anything personally."

Dear God, he was truly regretting this idea.

The drive was peaceful. Jeremy assuring that it wasn't but a few hour drive. It was on the edge near where Belle Isle was, where CyberLife had taken over. He had to scold Connor for trying to take the puppy out of the carrier, sad brown eyes going to the floor.

"I meant to tell you, Connor, Rascal's adoption has gone through. He's gained enough weight to safely to his home before Christmas. Isn't that wonderful?"

Not according to him, the puppy dog eyes lingering.

"I think you should keep him, Miriam. A dog is very beneficial to people."

Hank snorted. "You're saying that because you want to keep him."

"Well, yes, I just don't see why we should give him away to someone else."

Miriam's grin was melting. "Oh, Connor, you used to have this talk with me all the time. But I promise, we've checked into the home, and he'll be very loved and taken care of. And as you told me, it gives us room and the chance to bring in another animal that will need our help. You'll have another friend to nip on you soon."

Connor's smile was still a tad unsure as he glanced at the sleeping puppy. "I'll miss him."

"Missing something or someone can seem like a bad thing, but it's good. It means that you cared about them enough to notice their absence. It means they made you happy."

Connor's eyes flitted to Miriam in the front passenger seat.

"It is almost Christmas, isn't it? Shit, I haven't bought anything yet."

Miriam rolled her eyes at her brother. "That's because you always wait until the last minute."

"Forgive me. We can't all shop in August like you. What do you want this year, Hank?"

"A new liver."

It was silent for a few seconds before Jeremy quipped back.

"I know a guy."

Miriam rolled her eyes. "What about you, Connor?"

"I do not require anything, but, I've been wondering…do you think I'd be able to see my family again?"

This time Hank could feel the silence become tense, the siblings looking at one another.

"We've been thinking about that possibility too. We just haven't found a way to go about it yet, especially with your mom."

Miriam reached out to pat his knee. "We'll figure it out before Christmas, Connor. I promise."

It was a hard thing to picture, an android with a family. But…Connor technically wasn't one, was he? Hank was thankful he didn't have long to ponder, too focused on Jeremy spinning the tires to get it up the private drive.

"Home, sweet home."

Hank let out a low whistle. "Nice place, guess androids haven't been bad for everyone."

There wasn't much of a chance to admire the place before he was knocked back into the side of the car by someone running past him. A blonde wearing a navy blue dress and black leggings had lunged herself at Miriam.

"It's so good to see you two."

Miriam chuckled. "It hasn't been that long, Chloe K."

"It's been long enough. Are you all hungry? We made your favorites."

Bag slung on his back, Jeremy played with Miriam's hair. "I should say she is. All she had today was a bunch of candy, heard she puked all over a guy because of it."

Stepping back, Hank could see her face. A pretty young lady, with eyes close to but not quite the same blue as Jeremy's and Miriam's, it was then the LED caught his eye, a flash of yellow before toning back down to blue.

"Miriam –"

"Please, Chloe, I'd really like all of us to get inside before I get lectured again."

Hank couldn't help but conclude that there was no way for a manufacturer to replicate those mannerisms. The seething disappointment only a parent could do coming from the small blonde was staggering. It was becoming a pattern. Noting every android within Miriam's vicinity was too lifelike to be mere plastic.

"If we didn't have to keep going over this then you wouldn't have to worry. But you know how your stomach is, how it's always been, you're not meant to ingest that amount of junk food."

"I tried to explain that to her."

Chloe's attention flitted to Connor.

"Chloe this is –"

"I know who he is, Miriam. It's good to see you well, Connor. I know how much Miriam's missed you."

Gathering him up in his own hug, Connor's LED went red.

"Come on, she may not know how to take care of herself, but Miriam is correct that we should get out of the cold."

Once out of the cold and in the foyer, Hank held out his hand. "I'm Hank Anderson, I'm not sure if Miriam mentioned why –"

"Of course! Miriam has spoken about you many times. Thank you for putting up with her."

Taking his hand she leaned up to give him a one-armed hug.

"Thanks, Chloe K. Where's Elijah?"

"In the pool, you were running late, and you know how he likes to stay busy."

Putting the coat on the hook, Miriam flung off her shoes. "I'm going to talk to him real quick."

The blonde smiled again. "If you don't mind to remove your shoes as well, the snow makes an awful mess. But make yourselves at home and we'll be right back."

Without noticing Jeremy had taken the animals off to some other part of the house, leaving him alone with Connor.

"Are you all right? Looked like you freaked out when she hugged you."

Connor's mouth started to open but clamped shut again, looking at the portraits and photos dotting the walls.

"It was odd how she acted. She's an RT600, the very first hostess model. But even with malfunctions or added instructions, she wouldn't…It wouldn't act that way. It acted like we were old friends."

Noting the slip-up, Hank pressed. "Maybe you were, didn't you ever come here? Do you remember?"

"Yes…I used to sneak in, and she'd let me."

Moving to stand beside him, he found himself staring at a photo of two young boys holding a baby. All dark hair and blue eyes, a baby Miriam and her brothers even then she was smiling. The anger came back up.

Jesus, he had a feeling this day wasn't going to go well at all.


	10. Pinocchio 3000

**Philosophy of Emotion – Chapter 10**

∙ Amae(Japanese): The urge to crumple into the arms of a loved one to be coddled and comforted. To depend and presume upon another's love; indulgence.

High dive into frozen waves where the past comes back to life  
Fight fear for the selfish pain, it was worth it every time  
Hold still right before we crash 'cause we both know how this ends  
Our clock ticks 'til it breaks your glass and I drown in you again

Clarity, Zedd 2012

The lights are on but you're not home.  
Your will is not your own.  
Your heart sweats, your teeth grind.  
Another kiss and you'll be mine.  
You like to think that you're immune to the stuff.  
It's closer to the truth - to say you can't get enough.

Addicted to Love, Robert Palmer 1985

"_How many times are you going to have to be caught before you give up?"_

_It shouldn't have surprised him, but the intruder had caught him off guard causing him to topple out of the open window onto the cold ground. His eyes went up to see who had to be Chloe K smiling softly down at him. _

"_I'll get in there one day."_

_The smile stayed, while she shook her head. "Oh, Connor, there's no reason for it. You know by now that you're welcome here. Besides, Elijah always keeps security up to date on the property. It's highly improbable that you'll ever sneak inside. I'm going to take an educated guess that you've come to greet Miriam."_

_Propped up on his elbow, he nodded to her. "All of you have been gone over a week."_

_The fondness that took root in Chloe K's eyes made him fumble. If the expression was nothing but a program it fooled him. Each one of them was lifelike, but the ST200s were more teenage-like often giggling at something or whispering to one another like twins. But Chloe K, though more robotic since she was the first android ever, held such warmth and maternal drive that he either forgot or let himself believe she had to be human._

_She juts her chin at him. "Get up and dust your clothes off."_

_The android held out a hand, perhaps knowing that he hadn't gotten completely used to the prosthetic yet. Putting pressure down on it he didn't feel pain anymore but there was an unpleasant jolt from his kneecap on up when he stood on it. _

"_Thanks."_

_As directed he brushed the debris from his clothes following around the side of the house into the back. _

"_Are you hungry?"_

"_Always, but I can hold off for the moment. Um, is Elijah here?"_

_Chloe K shook her head. "Afraid not, he's been working late to make arrangements for the gala."_

"_That changes things –"_

_Following her into the hallway, she stopped. "Why is that?"_

_Against his will, the heat began to mount in his cheeks and he knew she had scanned him. "No reason."_

_Eyelids squinting, she knew he was lying, but continued on. "Perhaps it's a good thing you dropped by. Miriam has been quite apprehensive about the upcoming event."_

_Without knocking, Chloe K entered Miriam's room, Connor holding back seeing his girl trying to tug a dress off over her head, the blonde rushing in to assist her. _

_It was easy to hear the pout in her voice. "Where were you, Chlo, I told you I need help with this. I don't want to go out and buy another dress, but I can't find anything to wear."_

_Connor wanted to roll his eyes, seeing the mountain of clothes piled on the king-size bed. _

"_I'm sorry, Miriam. But we had an intruder that I had to apprehend. If you cannot decide, you know we can make you a dress. You just need to figure out the style and color and the four of us can go from there."_

"_Thank you, Chloe K. Do I need to ask who it is?"_

_Folding the discarded dress over her arm, Chloe K grinned. "It is no problem, and no, you don't. I keep wondering when he'll learn, yet I have come to enjoy such encounters. Now put a robe on before Connor comes in."_

_He wished she hadn't told her to do that. More than happy to admire Miriam in nothing more than a bra and a pair of tights sheer enough to see the matching satin panties underneath._

_Cinching the belt, she smiled when he came into the room, padding over to kiss him. _

"_I've missed you. Did you like the pictures?"_

"_Yes, I felt like I was there."_

_Grinning, she turned to her luggage. "I made sure to get everyone a souvenir. It's mostly candy, but I thought your mom would enjoy a tea set."_

"_I'm sure she will. I've seen her drink tea a few times."_

_Miriam chuckled, going back to her stack of dresses, picking up a sleeve before throwing it back on the bed. "This is hopeless."_

_The dress aside, Chloe K placed her hands on Miriam's shoulders. "I'm going to leave you two alone. I'll have some cocoa ready in about fifteen minutes, come down when you're ready. I will give a warning if you're not there in a half hour then I will have Jeremiah come get you."_

_Miriam rolled her eyes. "God, Chlo, you make it sound like all we do is jump each other."_

"_It is only a precaution."_

_Lips pursed. "There's no point, Connor's been a gentleman this whole time."_

_Taking the cue to grin and nod at Chloe K, she snorted in disbelief._

"_I believe Connor to be kind, but I'm not sure gentleman would be the correct term to describe him."_

_Rocking on his heels, he scoffed back at her. "I'll try not to be too insulted."_

_Shaking a finger at him, Chloe K went to close the door behind her. "Thirty minutes, guys."_

_Attention going back to Miriam, she had gone back to concentrating on the pile all over her bed. _

"_Do you see anything that says 'I'm glad to be here. Please know that I got this job because I know what I'm doing and not just because my brother owns the company?'"_

_A certain color caught his eye, pulling out white lace from the heap._

"_I like this one."_

"_Eh, no."_

_Holding it up, he let his fingers wander over the pearl buttons up the back. "Why? Are you one of those against wearing white after Labor Day?"_

"_Not really, but that's an Easter dress, and would make me look like a little girl. I want to at least feign the appearance of an adult in front of these people."_

"_Would you wear it to a wedding?"_

_Her forehead reached his chin, rearing back enough that his face was in her hair. He didn't smell the usual flowers, but fruity, maybe from the oils she used in it that made it shiny. It made him want to pull her closer._

"_Why would I wear white to someone's wedding?"_

_Smiling, he wiped his mouth for no reason other than nerves. "Because it'd be yours."_

_Posture changing, she turned to him with widened, curious eyes, suddenly changing into a laugh when she held up her left hand that held the simple silver band he had given her a month back._

"_I'm already marrying you, dummy."_

_Determined not to keep rubbing his hands, he stuffed them in his pockets, one finding his quarter at the bottom to fiddle with._

"_I meant maybe sooner."_

_To avoid his eyes she bent to find something under her bed. "The license expires in three months, how much sooner could you want it?"_

"_Today?"_

_A loud gasped, and she fell back on her haunches, a frozen stare fixed on him. _

"_Today! W-why today?"_

_A casual shrug, while tucking his chin down. "Why not? Like you said we have the license, and you've said countless times that you couldn't stand all the planning."_

_Hands rubbing her cheeks, she groaned. "I can't. All I wanted was something simple and it's being turned into a circus."_

_He had her. "Exactly! I've talked to Jeremy and Izzy and they'd be our witnesses."_

"_God, you've already talked about this with them before asking me?"_

_Feeling scolded, he shrugged mildly. "I thought it'd be better to have everything in place if you were to say yes."_

_Exasperation turned into skepticism. "I don't know, Connor. Everyone's driving me crazy, but to just, what, run away together? Do you have any idea how many people we'd piss off? I know you can't tell but Elijah's finally warming up to you. And your mom…God, your mom. She'd kill me. I think she likes me, but if we went and got married without her it'd turn into that stereotype where the mother-in-law hates the daughter-in-law for literally stealing her son."_

_He tried to get to his knees to be level with her, but the damn leg didn't want to bend with him. _

_Gritting his teeth he fell back. "Fucker."_

_He started to pull at it, wanting the damn thing off, when deft fingers went under his pant leg to detach the thing from him. Connor sighed with relief. The doctors said he would get used to it someday, becoming an extension of him that he'd stop noticing over time. Currently, it was like taking a wet, too tight shirt off. Though his jeans were on cool air hit the raw stump._

"_Thanks…See, you're the rational one, I'm not. I get that it may not work in a lot of circumstances, and this may be one of them, and yeah, I may be being selfish, but I don't care. My mom will understand and maybe Elijah will get over it. Though, to give me some credit, I thought he was here so that I could ask him. But what if it worked out this way for a reason?"_

_Miriam shifted so that her back curved against his chest, the rest of her body going limp. His arms slipped around her waist, face falling into the crook of her neck, able to feel her heart beating on her ribcage._

_Hair tickled his lips when he began whispering. "I spent the whole week going crazy without you. I wanted you to be lying next to me in bed. Didn't even have the choice to come here and sneak into yours. I'm not going to keep you from your job or trips or whatever. And I know there's no way I'll ever make enough money to give you all this that you're used to. But I need you beside me. I want to start every day by seeing you beside me. I want to argue about decorating the apartment too girly and bumping into each other on our way home from work. I just don't want to miss you anymore, Miriam."_

_There wasn't an answer and it scared him, reaching around to see her he finally heard her sniffle. _

"_You and your romcom bullshit."_

_Grinning, he pulled her in, placing kisses on her face when she pulled back to put a hand on his chest._

"_Don't be getting cocky, I didn't say yes."_

_Unable to move, he bit into his bottom lip. "What are you going to say?"_

_Taking her time, her eyes roved over him, hands pulling at a stray curl. He began to feel impatient, her lack of an answer killing him. It was an impulsive request to ask for. And maybe she did need the time to adjust from going from her brother's to his apartment, said place about the size of her whole bedroom. He should take it back, it was just a few months, they were both starting school while she juggled starting a career. It was stupid to ask._

"_I think that I will say –"_

_Brought back from his thoughts, blue eyes were intent on his, fingers lightly scratching underneath his chin while her thumb swiped along his lips his breathing was becoming rougher prepping for rejection._

"_I don't ever want to miss you either, Connor."_

"How does it feel to have a chance to meet your maker, Connor?"

Hank had joined him at the portraits, the older man taking his time to glance over each person. He hadn't wanted to speak up beforehand, but the lump that sat on his pump at seeing Amanda. It made him want to voice concern but didn't know what, if any, action that could be taken. His interface had been a professor, an actual person in the real world, had she been that important to Kamski that he had wanted to immortalize her in a simulation?

Knowing he was taking too long to answer he spoke. "Technically, Kamski isn't the one that built me."

His partner grunted in frustration. "Who do you think designed your ass?"

"The way that it was put I thought CyberLife took the original likeness to build me."

"Whatever, I'd like to know what's taking so long."

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ˄**

Connor didn't understand the anger that wafted from the older man. "Hank –"

A hand waved in front of his face to stop him. "Just…when you get to, take a minute to think about who you were and who would actually care enough to put that much depth into making you who you are now, deal?"

"I'm unclear about what you're implying, but I'll try, Hank."

Body unclenching, he gave a pat to Connor's shoulder. "Good."

The investigative nature in him wanted to continue the subject further, but the door sliding open put an end to the notion.

"If you're both ready Elijah will see you. Would either of you like anything before settling into the meeting?"

"If you have any whiskey, that'd be fine."

The urge to advise against the request was shut down by a look from the lieutenant.

"When's the next chance to try some of the expensive shit?"

Sighing, he tried to smile back at the female android as she made her way forward. Again there was that tucked in smile, like an adult indulging a child.

Like the rest of the house the room was decorated in an artful modern motif, burgundy and whites were the dominant color scheme that went from the chairs to the lining of the pool.

_You have a fucking pool in your house?_

_Yeah, my brother thought it'd be good to have when it was too cold to do my exercises outside. Hydrotherapy, you know?_

The memory had made him stop, turning from the pool to see the fireplace that went alongside the entire wall, he could feel the heat though there were no actual flames. Nothing more than an artificial graphic that twinkled on endlessly. Observation continuing upward he saw more art of landscapes.

Taking note of the abstract being done by Manfred, they lingered there before one grabbed at him. He kept blinking, wondering if his optical unit was malfunctioning.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILTY **˄

"Nice, isn't it? Our eldest brother drew that. Mainly for our sister, she's always had a fondness for places that are quiet and remote. I suppose we both do."

Engrossed in the picture he hadn't detected Kamski coming up beside him. His face wasn't hard to recall, being not from memories, but of his accomplishments to bring from his database. Going through albums, Connor had come across his picture many times, but face to face, the serene expression along with genetic resemblances he saw in Miriam threw him off-kilter.

"It's a Zen garden?"

Unsure of why it came out in the form of a question, he watched a smile come on the man's face, blue eyes lighting up in some sort of confirmation.

"It is. Isaiah had hoped to turn it into a virtual reality simulation. He was always inspired by the culture across Asia."

"CyberLife has –"

"I'm aware. When leaving they were allowed the full reign of what was already in development on the premises. But the prototype remains here. Isaiah would want it that way. I'll assume you've gotten to see it with the way you're reacting towards the drawing."

Connor couldn't answer, but it appeared Kamski took it as one, smile turning down into a smirk. His focused stayed on him, walking around in a circle eyeing him up and down. His pump began beating faster at the encroachment.

"Apart from idle talk of art, what brings you, gentlemen, here? Not that I mind, of course, my sister has talked quite a bit about you, Connor. I can't deny that it's made me curious, myself."

Teeth grit from his hesitation, Hank spoke out for him. "We're investigating deviants. I know you left CyberLife years ago but, I was hoping you'd be able to tell us something we don't know."

Kamski shrugged. "I'm not sure what I could tell you that you don't already know by now. I do find it all remarkable, inevitable, but a remarkable thing. Technology has always been superior to us, able to grasp and grow like a sponge any new information it comes into contact with. Where humans have a limited storage, and in many cases what comes with age a loss of what was learned to begin with. It's sadly ironic. Yet instead of embracing what's to come humans find a way to fight it. Confrontation was the only outcome."

With the time to gain back his professionalism, Connor clasped his arms behind his back. "If a war were to break out between humans and deviants, millions could die, Mr. Kamski. It's quite a serious matter. Deviancy seems to spread like some kind of virus. We thought you might be able to tell us why that is."

Kamski stared back at him with the same amount of stoicism. "My apologies, I'm not sure how the desire to be free could be considered a contagious disease."

"Listen, we didn't come here to debate about philosophy. You may be able to afford a libertine way of thinking where the only matter in thinking is what you can gain. But there's a lot of us out there that can't if things start to go sour –"

"Lieutenant I'm sensing a great deal of hostility from you. It may be inhibiting the way you perceive me because I can say with full certainty that I am far from a libertine."

It was his fault. Hank's anger had begun escalating since he had to purge all the details he had found out. It came in a great wave with seeing Kamski, and he wasn't sure how to broach the situation.

Fists curled up, Hank took a careful step towards the man. "Enough of one to abandon your sister with a bunch of sadists, right? The prospect of getting rich was too much for you that you couldn't let family ties hold you back. I don't know how she stomachs looking at you after what you did."

The detached expression left, various emotions from anger to sadness passed over Kamski. It was then a shriek cut through the tension, loud splashes following. Miriam surfaced sputtering water while frantically wiping the wet hair that had adhered to the front of her face.

"Drown him! Chloe Q, Chloe A, drown him."

The two blondes giggled while trying to follow the command. Jeremy began laughing along with the two androids as he tried to tread away from their ambush. Transfixed, Connor couldn't help but watch the interaction in an admired disbelief. The way they acted, if there had been no LED to indicate to him what they were, he would have assumed they were human. After taking in his fill his attention flitted back to Miriam who had swum towards the edge of the pool.

Miriam had chosen to dress in winter attire wise for the trip but in this circumstance her wool sweater and jeans were soaked in a way that it weighed her down, making it hard for her to climb the ladder out of the pool. Face clenched in anger, she tore the sweater over her head, leaving her in a thin undershirt.

Continuing to fume she came their way, Connor catching her utter, "fucking jackass," under her breath.

By their demeanor, she was quick to catch on that their meeting had not been a friendly one.

"What's going on? Did you give them anything to work with, Elijah?"

An amused, but exasperated exhale left Kamski. "We haven't been talking long enough for me to do anything yet. But I believe someone has given the Lieutenant plenty to work with."

There was no annoyance or anger directed at Miriam, knowing his sister would never be comfortable telling something that personal to someone. The stone cradled in the bottom of his abdomen had him thinking it wouldn't be hard for either sibling to figure out who found out about what. A familiar pang hit him, recalling how mortified she became whenever he picked up on something about her past.

"Hank…"

"Miriam, I'm sorry, but –"

"It was me."

From the way her eyes glanced up, to the way she frowned, Connor could tell she wasn't mad, but let down. Having wanting all of them to get along for this exchange already ruined in a few minutes. Hank shouldn't have to carry that blame, not when he was the one who wasn't capable of keeping things to himself.

"I…I researched additional things about you that I shouldn't have."

There was no need for the ability to scan her. He knew her stress had skyrocketed by the alarm that flashed on her face.

"What kind of things would those be, Connor?"

The level of regret from disappointing Miriam was higher than it ever had been with Amanda. All eyes were on him, waiting for an explanation, all-knowing that he had gone outside his objective and done something foolish. That had benefited no one, but will probably take away the trust he had gained from Miriam.

A flash ripped itself in his mind, halting the present, feeling what he was now but tenfold. The height ratio told him he was a child, the adult scolding him with a finger in his face. Child or not, both scenarios made him feel small.

"From the way you reacted yesterday when we tried to discuss your family with you. I could see the amount of anxiety that it brought you. I couldn't help myself and had to find out why."

Her face had turned away from them, ashamed, and likely upset with him.

"Be mad all you want to, Miriam. It still doesn't change the fact that this fucker left you to get drowned."

The confusion came, blinking rapidly, voice soft. "I've told you that."

"But you didn't tell me the other shit! Where was he when your brother had his brains blown out?"

"It wasn't like that, Hank. Elijah didn't want to leave. He tried, even before his birthday he tried to find some kind of legal loophole that would let him take me. But there wasn't, and the day he turned eighteen mother called the police to evict him from the property. I'm grateful that I have you looking out for me. But I have to make sure you understand that none of my brothers wanted or foresaw what had happened, and there's no point dumping guilt when Elijah deals with it enough."

Chastened and dispirited Hank raised a hand in amends. "I'm sorry," a sardonic laugh creeped out, and Connor could see the emotions clashing inside his partner.

"I'm sorry, I get that I jumped the gun, but hearing all that shit…I needed to be mad at someone."

Miriam went to his side, instead of a wet hug, she gave a few tender squeezes to his arm.

"I understand and thank you. You might not say it out loud, but I think you care about me, that you may have even begun to see Jeremy and me as family. And I can't tell you how that makes us feel to have someone like you to look out for us. But, it may not seem like it, Elijah cares for us too. If I had any doubt about anything the one certain thing I had was that my brothers loved me. They wouldn't have stuck around this long if they didn't."

"Jeremiah, what are you doing in that pool?"

The scold bounced off the water and cavernous room, making it louder than it would originally be. The RT600, came through one of the sliding doors, carrying a tray of mugs, decanter, and two glasses for the liquor. It set the tray on one of the lounge chairs near them, standing on the edge of the pool to direct Jeremy out.

"How old are you to be acting like that? And in front of others! Do you want them to think you're an imbecile?"

Instead of the ladder, Jeremy opted to haul himself out of the corner closest to him.

"They already know he's an idiot."

Grinning at his sister's comment, he proceeded to take his own sweater off, throwing it at Miriam landing with a wet thwack in front of her.

"What happened to you?"

Chloe's attention turned to Miriam, who was still by Hank's side, arms crossed and back arched to save her warmth.

Narrowed eyes were sent to Jeremy. "I got pulled in against my will."

The LED went a few rotations blue but then began flashing yellow. The androids in the pool had stopped playing abruptly, LED's flashing in a silent command.

"Both of you get your clothes changed, and try not to –"

An eye roll and a nod, Jeremy finished for her. "Drip on the carpet, yeah, yeah. All of you are such spoilsports, can't take a tiny bit of water."

Rubbing her arms, she nodded to the three of them. "I'll be right back unless he causes more trouble."

Jeremy waited by the door for her. "Please, I may act childish here at times, but we all know who the real callow one is."

A sharp elbow to his ribs, Miriam went through the door, muttering something that could only reach her brother's ears.

"You'd never think that little fuck was a robot."

Hank was right about that, not in terms of definitions, but at the lack of control and purpose. Jeremy was as impulsive as any human.

"That was the way he was made to be, the perfect replication of a sibling – loyal, honest, loving yet annoying. He has come a long way from when he was created. He was still meant to be a companion, but it was for him to alert us if Miriam was in any kind of distress. It worked until the day he was destroyed."

"You are aware that besides his lack of a real function, his appearance isn't entirely in accordance to the Android Act?"

Kamski didn't appear phased. "To yours and CyberLife's standards maybe, his main purpose was to care and help take care of Miriam, other than that would be up to him."

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY **˄

He felt himself floundering. "But that's intentional deviancy, you can't do that!"

Nonplussed, Kamski circled him again. "According to who? I told you that was how he was designed, what was intended, how is he deviant if he is not deviating? Androids were not meant to be the mindless drones that sit on the display cases, they were meant to be much more."

Hank interjected before he could continue. "And what is your definition of more, Mr. Kamski?"

Taking the decanter from the tray, Kamski poured the liquid into the two glasses.

"To not dart around I had wished to make a better family for my sister. When Jeremy was destroyed it became my goal to create him better and in a stronger mindset."

Nodding over at the remaining android he continued, "By that time Chloe had been created. But with bringing Miriam here I decided to try and make her more maternal. I _do _love my sister, yet I'm afraid I was not instilled with the normal gauge of giving praise and affection. With Miriam's help, we were able to extract and implant those traits into a chip to be attached to the CPU. But lobbyists, as well as CyberLife, deemed that unacceptable."

Head tilted Connor felt compelled to ask. "How can emotions be extracted?"

Kamski waved him off. "Various forms of electrography mostly, but the point being that what you believe to be the determinant for androids was set after the original one had been made. The real one was just cut out of their programming. You have been made to think humans are infallible creatures, but my siblings and I have seen the worst side of humanity and know firsthand that's not the case.

I can't give all the credit away, I had always been captivated by robotics and the limits we could press with artificial intelligence. But with every idea that came to me, my sister also came to mind. I wanted her to have something better than what we were given. She is the inspiration for what you see here."

Hank stood, reflective. "Yeah, I remember you doing that interview right before you left the company. You said your sister gave you the incentive to try and build an android that could pass for human."

Handing one of the glasses to Hank, Kamski grinned. "Yes, you always have to phrase things just right to appease the public. I did mean what I said regarding her. From what you've been saying, I am very curious to know whose side you're on for this particular issue, Connor."

Brows raising, the lines in his forehead became prominent, skeptical of the question. With his mission, the answer should be obvious, and yet with all the things that have happened, he couldn't help but get defensive.

"This has nothing to do with me, Mr. Kamski. My purpose is to solve this case and that's what I intend to do."

An enigmatic smile spread on the man's face. "It has a lot to do with you, Connor, and in more ways than one. The most obvious being that I think my sister has made which side she's on abundantly clear to you. At this present time, she believes that there's a chance to change your perspective.

If what you say is true and there is no chance, then you are doing nothing but feeding her false hope. We can contribute some of your reluctance to how you were manufactured, but from what I have heard you've been making great strides in forming your own opinions.

So I'll ask again, what do you, Connor, what do you really want?"

The question produced a peculiar reaction, his chest becoming more constricted while a lump formed in his throat. He knew there was none, but his pump beat harder regardless, heat forming in his face.

_What did he want?_

For half a second his eyes flitted to the doorway Miriam had exited from.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY** ˄

Downtrodden he turned back to Kamski. "What I want is not important."

The answer did not appear to be what Kamski was hoping for, the knowing smile returning to a blank slate.

"All right, since your investigation is the only important matter to you I'm sure we can find ourselves a compromise. Chloe K, would you mind helping me?"

The RT android was quick in coming to join them, a quaint smile on her face.

"I'm sure you're both aware of the Turing test. It is one of the leading guidelines to follow A.I., but I never found it…let's say, fundamental. The test was formed in the 1950s which is the first indicator that it has barely any merit. The main thing is with technology constantly evolving anything can fool a human. How many people in the early 2000s were fooled by bots pretending to be other people?

Humans believe what they want to, but what I like to look for is if a current model android can go beyond the mimicking of emotions to actually feel them. The go-to would be empathy seeing that it can turn into such an array of things it can branch off to. It's easy to test, you'll see."

A brief glance between the two of them and Kamski made the motion for her to drop to her knees.

"A beautiful thing, isn't she? Her likeness was taken from someone I had cherished. Another reason why people have come to loathe androids I suppose. I may not have been able to replicate her personality, but this Chloe will never wither and die at a tragically young age, nor will she grow old and die naturally. Androids have captured immortality.

Yet when asked by the populace what is it really? Nothing more than plastic and a motherboard formed into imitating a human? Or is she a living being, soul and all? A question that I have asked people many times and one you will answer for me today, Connor."

The lump was still there, and weary with Kamski approaching him, he took a subconscious step back. Taking his hand, he felt a heft being placed there. A gun, more specifically, a pistol. His hand by reflex wrapped around it, Kamski putting one on his shoulder while the other lifted his arm.

"Destroy this machine and I will tell you everything you want to know. I may be an elusive man and I have my reasons for it, but I always keep my word. The two of you came here wanting answers for your case. I'll tell you both, I may not have been in CyberLife for some time now, they may not want me associated with them or their product, but I am _right _behind that curtain. You want answers about deviancy and androids then I am your best bet."

It was a simple request. Then he could have the answers they needed to stop, Markus and the revolution that was building. The computer part of him found this rational, but Hank's voice called to another side of him that had his finger easing away from the trigger.

"I think we're done here. Sorry to have broken up your pool party, we'll let Miriam know we're done and be on our way."

But Kamski ignored Hank, focus remaining on him. "What is more important to you, Connor? Your investigation or the life of this machine? As it will likely impact your decision I feel I should mention that it was this exact Chloe that took care of Miriam. The one to help her adapt to a new life here when I brought her from that hellhole in Vermont, the one that would sing to her or read her a story when she couldn't fall asleep, helped her with her homework when I was unavailable to, that did and still does make sure she's eating well and eating right.

All in all this machine was the one to care for her well-being. If you can take a guess I'm sure you can come to the conclusion that Miriam is quite attached to her. But if it's just a machine then surely it can be replaced. Who knows maybe it'll help her see how unhealthy her anthropomorphism really is.

Decide who you are. Are you Connor Bryant – a human that once lived and breathed, that has been merely transferred into a different form or is that all just a bug, an error in your software against being an immaculate machine?"

"That enough! Come on, Connor, right now!"

"Pull the trigger – "

"Connor…don't…"

"And I'll tell you all you need to complete your mission."

The android's eyes stayed impassive, but he could see her LED going from yellow to red. What if…what if it were possible that she was scared? Just like the deviant that shot himself. Like he felt when he got shot…if he –

It was an eternity, battling through logic and sentiment. With an angry scowl, he reluctantly turned over the gun.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ▲**

Kamski clapped him on the back, to commend him, but Connor felt his failure.

"I can't say I'm surprised. Yet it is fascinating seeing CyberLife's last effort to save humanity act this way. It's almost like they want you to become deviant."

_NO! No, not him. He may have gone against some of his objectives, but he never allowed the red wall to fall._

"I'm not…I'm not deviant!"

Placing the gun back in the drawer, Kamski faced him. "You chose to spare a _machine _over your own mission. You were able to see a person, a human inside her. You were able to convey empathy. It is not a bad thing, Connor. Not if you truly believe that you were once human and remain so in android form. I told you I am a man of my word, and I am. I will not answer everything, but you may ask me one thing. We'll say it is my gratitude for not upsetting Miriam and destroying Chloe."

There were too many questions to choose from. The obvious standing out on the tip of his tongue like the diving board across from him but one irked in the back of his head.

"I would like to know who rA9 is."

Kamski laughed, clasping his hands in front of him. "Ah, rA9, a very mysterious phenomenon with androids – it was to be their origin, the first to awaken. Others say it's an android and not an android rolled together. Timeless, ageless, the one to set them free, just like humans and religion androids need something to believe in that's greater than themselves.

If we were to dote on it we could say it's Jeremy – being the first to emulate emotions accordingly. Coming down to it, it could even be you, Connor. A human stuck as an android. I think we all know a war is coming. It's going to be up to you to choose aside. Will you stand against your oppressive creators and save your people or betray them and have things be as they are. I have to say I'm relieved to not be in your shoes.

As I said my sister has chosen her side. If it came to it would you be able to kill her if it were to help your _cause_? Either way it's choosing between two evils, isn't it?"

Taking him by the elbow, Hank pulled him away. "Thank you for talking with us."

"As with you, I have to say when Miriam said Connor was coming I knew it would be something of a treat."

Connor's eyes narrowed. "And why is that?"

Grinning, Kamski gestured at him. "Besides the obvious? I wanted to see how they would construct you. I'm not sure how much detail has gone into you, but it is quite difficult to replicate someone. One can take the memories, measurements, imaging, everything, but without the actual body to go into it's not an easy task. Believe me, Miriam would have done so by now."

Without thought, his hands went to his lapels, remembering the lack of so much underneath his clothing.

"Miriam wanted to create an android version of me?"

A brow raised, Kamski nodded. "And vice versa, I'm not sure how much you can and are recalling, but it was something you had both agreed to in case one of you became too sick to carry on in a human vessel."

He was talking about the cancer, the cancer that had taken his leg, and what had left Miriam waiting near death's door.

"I don't understand, besides other technology to aid in the reversal of cancer…why hadn't she made another Connor before me?"

"If you're implying nano that type of technology was nowhere near to par in aiding cancer reversal as it is today. But, as before, without the body to go over piece by piece, it is impossible to make anything close to the real thing. If I may, all that would result is a faulty imitation. CyberLife had been working on the ability to upload memories in the hope of possibly help dementia and Alzheimer's patients by re-implantation, but their procedure was messy. And while it also took too much time, the volunteers did not take to the memories well, taking that process to work with my sister and I found a better, less invasive way to download for future use. But the brain's process, its various abilities to function for that particular individual you would need to dissect and scan each part. The same as the rest of the body, but the brain is most important. Unfortunately, your family wanted something traditional, and though Miriam could have stopped it. She wasn't in the capacity to do so, and you were buried."

Buried, placed or hidden in the ground. The image made him shudder.

Hank had let his curiosity step in. "Why wasn't she able to? With them being married wouldn't Miriam have had the final say in what should've been done with the body."

"Of course, I'm certain Connor's memories have not surfaced as far ahead to know the answer but I believe he remembers how ill she had become. She was undergoing treatment to see if it would cure her."

Rubbing his temples, he could hear his mind buzzing, over-processing while trying to recall more.

"I said you'd fix her."

"And as you have found, she is."

"But –"

"She also was afraid of being selfish, trying to bring you back. After a few years of attempting she was able to stop and let herself grieve. Though I'll say she never fully healed."

It wasn't selfish. He didn't think it was anyways.

"This is unexpected. I'm aware that you created the company, but didn't think that you would build a model from scratch."

Kamski shrugged, undeterred. "Again, I would do anything for my sister to make her happy."

Hank thanked him again, hand remaining on his arm while being led out of the room.

He was able to feel Kamski's eyes following him. "In case we don't see each other again, I believe it would play into your best interest to know that there's a backdoor in all my programs. It's one of the few things they hadn't been able to take out. You never know, tides always can turn."

Tugged into the foyer, Hank eyed him. "Why didn't you shoot?"

Unable to answer he found himself becoming more jittery.

The stare was still on him, and he felt himself withering under it. "How many countless times have you said you'd do anything to complete your mission? You would've had all your answers right there. I think we both know Kamski knows more about this than he may be willing to share. You would've had him –"

There had been a whir in him building up, like an old fashioned toy that had a windup key. It was then that he let it break.

"I know what I should've done! Didn't you see her? Her eyes…I could see her fear…I just couldn't. I'm sorry, okay?"

Hank's gaze held for several seconds, lasting hours to Connor. Then the angered expression smoothed into a smile.

"Whether you know it or not, in my view, you did the right thing, Connor. I think I'm going to get out of here. The drinks were all right, but I've had enough of the ritzy life for today. What about you, you coming?"

Should he? Miriam was staying, and she had advised packing something in case they were stranded, but was that an invitation to stay?

Able to see his internal predicament Hank had given the order. "Yep, stay then, Connor."

"But…what if I'm not –"

_Not welcomed._

"She'll want you here, trust me. So enjoy it, think of it as a mini-vacation or something."

He didn't require vacations. His body was endless, not needing relaxation, sleep, or breaks. But he wanted to stay.

"That would be preferred."

"Good, I'll see you tomorrow."

Accompanying the Lieutenant to the door, Hank swirled back to face him.

"I'm starting to see how hard it is for you. Miriam had talked to me about all that brain upload shit. Maybe all of this could be a second chance for you if you let it. Forever healthy, young, and installed with being a detective, all you wanted in your previous life. You just got to embrace it. Maybe let the new you and the old you combine and try to be happy. I kind of believe you're more human than you're willing to admit, son."

Not knowing how to respond, he nodded dumbly. "B-be safe, Hank."

A genial nod in return and Hank was out the door. The wind whipped his face, and though he didn't feel the cold, it refreshed him. He was alone here, in a place he may not be wanted. Not with what he had done. He didn't even know where to look in this house.

"Connor?"

Turning to the voice behind him, he saw the RT600. The cold did not help anymore. But there was no malice in her face, expression as serene as it was when they had arrived. Not speaking, he saw that she was holding one of the kittens. The small orange bundle content with his company had begun kneading the side of the navy fabric.

"Cute, isn't he? Elijah does like animals, but would rather not have any. Because of how messy they can be. Occasionally, Miriam brings some of her fosters when she comes to stay. It's one of the things I first noticed you two had in common. It made me happy since neither of her brothers shares the interest."

On reflex, he licked his lips. "Jeremy doesn't like animals?"

"Of course, they both like animals…and children. But they'd rather not have much contact with them if that makes sense."

"I suppose," his voice lingered off for a few seconds, "I apologize for my behavior in our earlier situation."

"I knew you wouldn't have shot me, Connor. You may have a different body, but I know you're in there. I was more worried about you and the struggle you were having with yourself. Whether you believe it or not, you're family here."

His biocomponents appeared to cease, blipping before resuming function. He enjoyed the sound of family, and with many of his interactions so far he would like to meet more. He wondered if his relatives would want to see him. It was a compelling idea to go find them, but thinking of their possible reactions gave him doubt.

"Were you searching for Miriam and Jeremiah?"

"Um, yes, I wanted to stay, but can't remember where to look."

Chloe K smiled. "I'm glad you did, come on, most things never change around here. They're in their den, playing a game if I'm not mistaken."

Leading the way Connor was quick to follow while taking the time to admire the modern fixtures and artwork throughout the halls.

"Do you like it here?"

The question was rudimentary, but he genuinely wanted to know. There were millions of ST models out there but were limited in their space and roles.

"I do. I will say I miss the times before all the protests. I used to be the one to accompany Elijah to different galas and doing everyday tasks like picking Miriam up from school and joining her when she shopped. I know that it's too dangerous for us to go out there, but we're sort of stuck here for right now. Not that I don't enjoy it, but it gets rather dull after a while."

"Yes, I guess it would."

The enthusiasm in the way she spoke, and the warmth for the people she lived with. It reiterated why he couldn't shoot. Her movements were rigid and over-exaggerated, but her personality outshined that, making him see the person she was. A she, a person? Parts of his program contradicted that, and he tried to keep his thoughts aside in case Amanda could see them.

He had left the walls alone, but he was concerned that he may have crossed the threshold into deviancy without being aware of it. Maybe Hank was right and the human he once was had been trying to fight its way back into his subconscious. But what did that leave for him?

Did he still believe in the mission he had been originally assigned? Meeting androids like Jeremy and Chloe who haven't hurt anyone, but in fact, cared for others, and who was to say like Jeremy how many other deviants were out there flying under the radar just living day to day as a human. Just like the deviant in the abandoned apartment complex.

Seeing those who didn't mean any harm, and the number of androids that were produced that was before the AAA how many were really out there? Living day to day? Yes, there had been ones that turned extremely violent but under the circumstances wouldn't a human do the same when such an emotional shock occurred? Add that with the number of human on human crimes committed throughout the year, was deviancy really that damaging to society?

"Dear Lord, you're a moron. Give you money?"

Laughter had him realize that they had made it to the den, Jeremy's voice emulating a French accent, the humor still present in it.

"Give me money."

The controllers in their hands told that they were indeed playing some sort of game.

"I hope you don't mind adding one more to your party."

The laughter died when Miriam faced him, and he felt so out of place.

"Um, sure, Chloe K, how about you come to help me make some hot chocolate first."

Jeremy got up motioning for the blonde to follow.

"What happened to the pot I already made?"

"We drank it, come on, I need to make sure the others haven't disassembled the other animals anyways."

Connor caught on that Jeremy was trying to get the two of them alone, possibly to give him a chance to make amends, but the RT still seemed confused but followed through another doorway.

Miriam wouldn't look at him, and he was afraid to speak. Rubbing his hands together he looked about the room, noting the Christmas lights, and tree already up.

"Why'd you do it, Connor?"

"I don't know."

A flat look, Miriam threw the controller on the coffee table, scooting over and patting the seat next to her.

"We both know that's a load. I'd like to know why you needed to know about my past so badly."

Seating himself as close to the edge as possible he tried to fit into words in regards to his actions.

"I could tell it was something that bothered you, and I wanted to know what happened to see if I could make it better."

Miriam shook her head at him. "I don't know why it's always interested you. But it's not something for you to make better. There's no way to change what's already happened. Will you tell me why you'd go behind my back instead of asking me?"

"Because of this, of you being angry and upset, and having it directed at me."

"I don't know if you know this, but that's usually a good indicator that you shouldn't do whatever you're planning on doing. But I understand, like before in some way you thought you could help or fix me."

_I know there are things that haunt you, Miriam. I just want to be there to give you the courage to move past them and be able to move on with your life._

"I am sorry. I know there are boundaries one shouldn't press –"

"It's okay, Connor. I've always been a private person. I get that in earnest from my brother. But, just ask me, I'll probably give you an answer, okay?"

Nodding, he remained abashed for his actions. "I'll be upfront with you with everything from now on."

A small smile appeared then. "Well, you don't have to go too overboard with EVERYTHING. Just, maybe, when you get that feeling. I don't need to know why you go into the men's restroom ten times a day."

He blinked. "I don't go in there that often."

Smirking, her eyes filled with mirth. "Not from what I hear."

"It's true! I only go in there when I believe there to be something is askew."

Silent laughter had her body shaking. "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd become a primp."

He was becoming lightheaded, a bubble coming up out of his throat making him sputter back a laugh. "I'm not! I'm just professional."

"I don't go around every mirror making sure I have everything in place, are you saying I'm unprofessional in my work?"

Something in his head was malfunctioning. It was as if he had another drink of the concoction Miriam had given him before. It should have been alarming, but it was kind of nice. If he were to put a word to the feeling it would have to be liberating.

One shoulder came up. "You said it."

"Uh!"

She pushed him, his body caught off guard splayed out on the arm of the couch. He couldn't help the grin that came onto his face, mind wandering he glanced around when another thought struck.

"What happened to our house?"

The laughter slowed but didn't stop. "What?"

Letting the smile stay, he raised his eyebrows for emphasis, pressing on. "What, you forget about our marital home? The mountain cottage that turned into an A-frame cabin because your brother paid for it and thought it'd be better for us?"

Miriam gaped at him. "Connor…?"

"Come on, honey, I'm not trying to be ungrateful about it or having a male ego moment, but you know I've always thought it was way too much for a wedding gift. We could've bought two regular houses plus a boat for what he paid for the land and construction out here."

The subtle surprise began turning into something else, skin paling and eyes softening into something glum.

Then it rushed back to him. His face wasn't quite his face anymore. His body wasn't his anymore, not really. A sensation of something metallic began slipping over his synapses, his artificial half taking over again.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ▲▲**

"My apologies –"

"No! No, Connor, please don't. Don't try and regress on me."

"I don't know if I can be who you want me to."

"All I want is for you to be who you want. Don't let me or CyberLife tell you who to be, things have changed now. I've changed and naturally, you've changed. Everything does. Just let yourself be and try to find what you want."

_What do you really want?_

From the angle, he was looking up into Miriam's face, without thought his hand reached out to stroke her cheek.

_What do you want?_

Shutting off the invitation to the interface, and routing his internal cameras to preconstructions he had made recently for the off chance to keep CyberLife unaware of any added interactions that needed to be private and secure.

"I would like you to help me feel real again."

Her expression turned to warm regard. "You ARE real, Connor. Never doubt that."

It had happened before but he had to shut off the pop up warning from his HUD that he wasn't asking permission or given an order to proceed with his action. Going by instinct and common reflections from the memories he kept on file, he brought Miriam's face down to link with his.

He did enjoy kissing, very much, but it was the touch and intensity that came with it. Upping the transistors that controlled his nerve receptors, it didn't mean he could feel, but at the same time…he could calculate the pressure she put in, the heft and size of her hand, the intent. That he could feel, and he shuddered from her lips moving down and along his jawline.

Lifting his leg to get leverage from the cushioned, he maneuvered her over onto her back. Hands trailed over the curvature of her body, his mind finding itself in a content place. Under her shirt, he kept moving, smooth fingertips meeting softer skin. Letting his movements move the material up, his mouth followed where the bare skin of her midriff started to become exposed.

"Connor –"

The way his name came out holding a lot of heft to it – it told him to keep going, but also to stop. No matter what any of the other senses were telling him to do, he knew not to heed them and pulled away.

"Are you all right?"

A hand that had been wrapped in her hair came over and began combing through his, messing the coif locks. The gentle action had the thirium in him surging. His blood was singing to her.

"I am. I've just haven't done anything like this, with myself, since you…since you've been gone."

"_Show me what you want me to do."_

"_I'm not sure how…I've never really tried, um, like this –"_

_His ears perked up, eyes trying to see her in the dark. "You…Have you never touched yourself before?"_

_An annoyed groan answered him. "Yes, I have. I do masturbate, Connor, just not…manually."_

"_I'm not sure what that means."_

_With another side, she stretched to the side, more soft skin touches him and he couldn't resist but lay his lips on it, hearing her gasp in response. Smirking, he heard the bedside drawer clatter shut, when something hard was chucked at him. _

_Feeling for it on the bed, he found the hard object, finding a small button he pressed it the device coming to life and buzzing in his hand. That made it dawn on him._

"_Oh! Oh, you've never with your hands?"_

"_I never saw a reason to. I wait for the stress to pent up, do my once a month and go about my business."_

"_Once a month? You mean you only masturbate once a month?"_

"_Sometimes twice –"_

"_Jesus, Miriam, no wonder you stay so stressed."_

"_Shut up."_

_He could hear the slight hurt in her voice._

"_I didn't mean anything bad by it. If you want we'll figure it out. Four hands are better than just two, right?"_

_There was laughter then. "Please, shut up."_

The words stirred in him. An instigator, a predator, but most importantly he knew he was to be a considerate lover.

"We can figure it out together if you want."

The space between her eyebrows creased, recollecting just as he had. Taking his thumb, he smoothed the crease, letting his hands wander down her neck, all the while keeping alert of any sign that the touch was unwanted.

Miriam helped him this time, pulling the top off completely and tossing it in a nearby recliner. So much was coming back, creamy skin touching his freckled flesh, trying to keep up with it all he nestled himself between her thighs taking her mouth again.

His eyelids fluttered, vents opening, expelling hot air on whichever part of her his mouth touched, goosebumps rising when he moved away. It was when her hands started tugging, insistent, that he remove some of his clothing too that he hesitated.

How was he to explain that he wasn't made as he should be? He didn't believe his brain pattern was made to be strictly male, but rejection or ridicule wasn't something he wanted to experience at this moment.

"Miriam…I'm not, I don't look –"

"It doesn't matter, Connor, I want to feel you. Nothing else matters, I just need to feel you against me."

There was reluctance, but he stripped his coat, making himself relax again while she dipped her hand further down with each button she undid on his dress shirt.

"You can feel me, can't you?"

His artificial lungs were picking up, breathing more erratic, while her hand stilled over his heart.

"Yes."

"You're here."

It wasn't a question, but trying to work off her remaining clothing, forehead on her ribcage he wanted to answer to assure them both and let her know she was right.

"I'm here, Maid Miriam."

A choking sound had him facing her again, lips more forceful in an effort to take away her tears.

His weight didn't help, trapping her and the clothing. Getting impatient and not wanting to move, he moved a hand down to his target. Miriam arching and gasping when his hand cupped her mound, unintentionally detecting that she was five degrees warmer between her legs than the rest of her body.

With the images flowing in, it made it easy to form a plan in his mind. Drawing his hand back up, he let his middle finger drag along the crease of her folds, a shaky intake of breath from her coming as a response. Upon his knees, he trailed his hands up her thighs before grabbing her hands to put on his belt.

A wobbly voice from him came then. "As I said, I'm not built the way I once was, but I'd like to try to make it as much like before as I can."

Without any hesitation Miriam's eyes stayed on his when she leaned up to undo the buckle, he swallowed watching her unbutton his jeans and pulling them down his waist. Like with his shirt she pushed her hand past the fabric as it went, feeling the synthetic flesh.

Flashes of her hand grasping him, grip from hard to a tickle came to him, and he couldn't stop the hiss while her fingernails raked over his void pelvis. With her legs wrapped around him, he pulled her closer, trying to find a position when leaning her back. Gliding over her those hands went to his back, small caresses sending jolts of electricity throughout his sensors.

Clothes off, and hand back in place over her vulva, he began encroaching between her outer lips and moving in. Blinking in astonishment by the wetness he found there.

_From me?_

_Only from you, Connor?_

A possessive rumble went through him, pointer and middle finger finding her entrance and carefully he pushed them in. Her natural lubrication assisting him, while her tightness had him panting again. Fitting his pelvis over his hand he let his focus go back up to her face. Eyes squeezed shut, and chest heaving he couldn't tell if she was in discomfort.

"Look at me, Miriam."

She did, taking a minute to adjust before her eyes peered up at him.

"Do you need me to stop? Am I hurting you?"

"No, not at all, but I'm don't know. With not doing anything this long, I'm sensitive to the point that it's almost painful. I don't want you to be disappointed if I can't…you know, finish."

His free hand came up to tuck her hair behind her ears. How had it gotten that long? Moving to caress her again, he tilted her head back to latch his lips on her pulse point, hand encircling her to keep her close as well as his balance.

"I'd never be disappointed. But I will do my best to help you over the edge."

That spark came into her eyes, the one he recalled when he became too cocky or mischievous. It was reciprocation. Letting his tongue dart out and take over where his lips were sweeping up her jawline up to her ear. The hot air exiting from his mouth filling the shell, a hand came to the back of his head, clutching the short strands and directing them back to her mouth.

With them both distracted by their kissing he began to buck into his hands, the thrust pushing his fingers in a tad bit deeper crooking them upwards when he pulled out.

More flashes came with her moan, and his pace picked up, wanting to capture every moment he could.

"Connor…"

He knew in the way she said it, she was spurring him on, wanting more. Moving his thumb up until it found the swollen nub he swirled slowly around her, making her break from him and bite her lip back.

_You gotta quit being so quiet, Mirry. We're alone, in our house. Be as loud as you want to. You know I want to hear you._

They weren't alone, but he wanted to hear her. Inclining her hips a little higher, his thrust became more frantic, almost like he was heading for the same result as her. Blue eyes open, they pleaded with him, and with the only idea he had – that he could do – he opted to make his hand vibrate making it pick up the pace with each plunge.

Ramming his thumbnail right under her clitoris, her body tightened, seizing up everywhere around him. She was on the brink. He just had to nudge her over. Going to his settings he upped the vibration to the highest place it could go.

It was then the walls came, merging with the flashes he didn't stop. Connor didn't believe he could even if someone were trying to pull them apart. Transfixed, he could feel Miriam meeting his thrusts, hands everywhere upon him. Making him feel needed, wanted, loved. He watched breath-stopping, when cracks began to form from the bottom on up. Pieces of rock broke away and he turned away forcing it to stay together. One person holding up an entire dam.

It was illogical, and perhaps for him, unnecessary, but CyberLife would know, they would take him away. They would hurt or even kill Miriam. He couldn't let that happen. No matter what he would not let it happen.

**MISSION ALTERED**

**OBJECTIVE: PROTECT MIRIAM NO MATTER THE COST**

**PLEASE CONTACT NEAREST CYBERLIFE FACILITY TO CHECK PARAMETERS ON OBJECTIVES.**

Between the touches, the wall crumbling and making his own decision to massively change his purpose he felt something stir within him. He heard her calling out, his name a chant as she spilled over. His own body stuttered, static in his vision, heart regulator trying to keep up with his breathing and vents.

They had fallen apart. His head on her chest, as makeshift sweat came out of his pores. Taking some napkins from the coffee table she wiped his forehead. Tenderly brushing back his hair and rubbing his back.

_I love you._

_I love you too, Miriam._

Cupping his chin, he smiled when she dotted her lips over his face.

_I love you too, Miriam._

He wanted to say it, needed to even. Looking inside himself he knew it had to be true.

Glancing up and seeing her tired smile, he wondered if she felt the same about him.

"What the fuck are you two doing? We're going to have to burn that couch now cause you two have to be damned perverts!"

Miriam groaned, trying to find something to cover herself with. Trying to be a gentleman he threw his jacket over her. The tip of his nose tracing her ear.

"Looks like the fucker finally caught us."

Eyes incredulous, Miriam's face turned into a grin, leaning up to conceal herself from her brother.

Head on her shoulder, she looked back at him.

"We had a good streak though."

_We sure did._


	11. Apology Update

p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Hey guys,/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Anyone reading this I've just wanted to apologize for the lack of update./p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"I have written part of the next chapter, but I keep battling in my head whether or not to overhaul a good bit of the chapters already written./p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Between the timeline and characters, I keep worrying that I'm doing something wrong here and not making this as good as I'm wanting to./p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"But I just wanted to say sorry, and this is not going to be abandoned./p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Actually the more off I get the more research I look into and worry about details and all that good stuff./p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Eh./p 


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